


Zodiac

by ThisTooShallPass1937



Category: The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin
Genre: F/F, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:54:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22836592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisTooShallPass1937/pseuds/ThisTooShallPass1937
Summary: Emma is a homicide detective. Alyssa is a crime reporter. A serial killer is on the loose in New York City. That's basically it.
Relationships: Alyssa Greene/Emma Nolan, Kevin/Shelby (The Prom Musical)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 78





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> I am in no way a crime genius or a professional reporter. That being said, there will probably be some stuff that doesn't add up if you are in one of those professions. Forgive me. I'm just a fan of My Favorite Murder. There are descriptions of dead people and some violence. This follows the last chapter of my A to Z series.

* * *

**Chapter One**

“What do we got?”

Kevin Shields rolled his eyes as the poised voice of his partner and friend, Emma Nolan, reached his ears. He stood up from where he had been taking notes of the evidence and approached the woman.

“I just said that four minutes ago,” he told Emma.

“Yeah? Well, I haven’t.” Emma shot him a smirk as she took some gloves from one of the crime scene techs. “And it’s my slogan.”

“It’s definitely not,” Kevin said. “Pretty sure it’s on every cop show that’s ever existed.”

Emma shrugged. “Whatever. Either way, what’s going on?” She swept her gaze over the cramped studio apartment that they had been called to. A small bookshelf was toppled over and several books were scattered across the wood floor. The coffee table was on its side and the TV had been shifted on its stand. “There was a struggle,” Emma said aloud.

“Yeah,” Kevin agreed. “The vic put up a fight. The body’s this way.”

He led her to the kitchenette where a plant had been knocked over, its dirt spilled on the floor. Right next to it lay the dead body of a young woman with dark hair. She was face down, her arms sprawled slightly, and clothed. Her sweater had numerous tears throughout with darkened edges.

“She was stabbed,” one of the uniformed officers said.

“Yes, we can see that, Roland,” Kevin said with a tired look to Emma. She smirked. Kevin examined the floor. “There’s not a lot of blood, though. Think the knife wounds could be post mortem?”

“Possibly,” Emma said. She crouched down closer to the body, trying to see the face. “Who is she?”

“Victim is Emily Mullins,” Officer Roland explained. “Age 24. She was in grad school.” He handed Emma the evidence bag that contained the victim’s student ID.

“Hm, grad student at Columbia,” she observed. “Nice. Do we know what she was studying?”

“No ma’am. We found her purse and laptop over on the bed. Nothing appears to be stolen.”

“So, not a robbery,” Kevin noted. He glanced to Roland. “Was the apartment broken into?”

“No, sir,” Roland replied. “No signs of forced entry. We’re thinking she didn’t have the door locked.”

Emma sighed. “Why don’t they ever lock their doors?” she wondered aloud, clenching her jaw. Emily was so young, barely five years younger than herself; she had barely begun to live. Emma stood up and began to move around the space, taking in the crime scene markers.

“Were there any witnesses?” Kevin asked. Roland shook his head. “Who found her?”

“Boyfriend,” Roland said. “Said he stopped over cause she wasn’t returning his texts. Said he was worried.”

“I’m sure he was,” Emma muttered. “What time did he find her?

“9:15.”

“What’s the boyfriend’s name? I might wanna bring him in, ask him a few questions.”

“Kyle Baker. Another officer is taking his statement down the hall.”

Emma nodded as she passed by a bagged cellphone. “Has anyone contacted the family?” Roland nodded again. “Good, let’s get the Doc here.”

“Detectives?” Kevin and Emma turned to the door to see another officer. “There’s some reporters outside. Just thought you should know.”

Kevin swore as he stomped towards one of the windows. Emma followed and glanced outside. Sure enough, there were some people assembling down near the entrance.

“Why can’t they ever leave us alone?” Kevin mumbled as he snapped off his gloves.

“Hey, Kev, don’t worry, I got it,” Emma said and she too slipped off her gloves. “We both know I’m better at speaking anyways.” She winked.

“Oh yeah, that’s it,” Kevin said sarcastically. “And it has nothing to do with that beautiful reporter who always seems to be at our crime scenes, huh?”

“Beautiful? I thought you were married, Kev,” Emma said cheekily before ducking out of the apartment. Kevin’s response of “I am and happily married, thank you very much!” echoed after her.

Emma checked herself in the mirror in the apartment building lobby before strutting out into the sunshine. There was a small group of reporters and photographers congregated behind the yellow tape. Emma gazed at them, recognizing a few, before her eyes zoned in on the curly haired brunette.

Alyssa Greene.

Emma suppressed a grin as she made her way over; she could the smirk on Alyssa’s face already.

“I think it goes without saying that I can’t say anything, right?” Emma asked the group once she reached them.

Immediately, cameras flashed and several questions were thrown at her.

“Was this a murder?”

“Who’s the victim?”

“Are there any leads thus far?”

“Was rape involved?”

Emma gritted her teeth. “C’mon guys, this isn’t your first rodeo. You know I can’t say anything during an open investigation.”

“Why can’t you give us something?” one of the younger photographers yelled. Emma barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes; why didn’t they get it?

“You guys will get the information once we’re ready to give it. Now, if you don’t have any further quest-”

“Is there any connection between this murder and the one that happened in the Bronx over a month ago?” a loud, clear voice asked. Everyone turned to Alyssa, the asker. She eyed Emma in challenge.

Emma swallowed, before leaning towards Alyssa as she responded, “A statement will be released to the public in due time.” She looked to the rest of the group. “Until then, we can say no more on the matter.”

The group slowly began to disperse. Emma watched them go and turned to see Alyssa still standing behind the tape. Emma smiled inwardly. “Do you have a police scanner or something? How did you know that we were here?”

Alyssa arched an eyebrow. “It’s New York, Detective Nolan. All I have to do is look out my window and see crime scene tape.”

“Ouch, is that a dig on the police?”

“If you take it that way.” She thumbed the tape that separated them. “Are you sure you can’t give me anything?”

Emma sighed. “C’mon, Greene, you know that’s against the rules.”

The brunette stepped back. “Yeah, I know. I just thought you and I had something.”

Emma quirked an eyebrow up. “Had something?”

“Yeah, a working relationship,” Alyssa elaborated. Emma’s heart thumped at the word ‘relationship’. “Like, you give me info first and I don’t paint you as being the bad guy in the paper.”

Emma’s jaw dropped. “I’m not a bad guy!” Alyssa broke out laughing. “Anyone who knows me knows that I am a model citizen, thank you.”

“It’s amazing what people will believe, even if it’s not true,” Alyssa said slyly. “I could make the whole city hate you with just a few words.”

Emma placed her hands on her hips. “Are you threatening a police officer, Miss Greene?” she questioned with a crooked smile. “Cause you could get in trouble for that.”

Alyssa’s eyes glinted mischievously. “And what would my punishment be, Detective?” she asked lowly.

Emma’s cool façade broke. Eyes widened, she sputtered. “Um, I-well-ha, I-” Alyssa grinned as redness flooded the detective’s cheeks. “Uh-”

“Emma!” The woman spun around to see Kevin at the entrance to the apartment building. “The ME’s here.”

“What?” Emma blinked rapidly, trying to clear her head. “Oh, right. Um, okay, I’ll be there in a sec!” she called to him. Kevin shot her and exasperated look before disappearing back inside.

Alyssa sighed dramatically. “And we were having such a splendid time, too.”

“Speak for yourself,” Emma muttered quietly so Alyssa couldn’t hear. She fiddled with her glasses. “Right. You’ll get the info once we’re ready to give it,” she repeated from earlier. She turned on her heel and strode back into the building, not looking back to the smirking reporter.

Kevin was waiting just inside the doors. “Aw, did she make you blush?” he teased, spotting Emma’s still red face. She shoved him.

***

“You said _what_ to her?”

Alyssa winced at the volume of her coworker and friend, Kaylee Klein’s, voice. “Will you keep it down? I’d like to not have the whole building hear what we’re talking about.”

Kaylee rolled her eyes, but conceded. “I’m just confused, Alyssa. You claim you don’t like this girl, yet you flirt with her every chance you get.”

“I do not flirt!” Alyssa protested. “And I don’t like her like that.”

“Oh, yes you do,” Kaylee sing-songed. Alyssa really wanted to shove her friend from where she was leaning against her desk. “You totally spaced out the first time you met her. And now you’re always asking to be the one to go to the crime scenes.” She eyed the brunette. “Am I supposed to think that’s just a coincidence?”

“I’m a crime reporter,” Alyssa stated dryly. “Going to crime scenes is part of my job. Now will you get off my notes? You’re crinkling them.”

Kaylee stood straight and Alyssa snatched the papers that she had been partially sitting on, putting them safely on the other side of the desk. “I don’t understand why you don’t just record your notes on your phone like every other reporter.”

“It’s not the same,” Alyssa mumbled. “And I do use a recorder, but I feel more accomplished when I write stuff down.”

“Whatever. I still can’t believe you said that to her.” Alyssa closed her eyes; she had hoped that Kaylee would let it go. Kaylee studied her. “Alyssa, there’s nothing wrong in admitting that you want to fu-”

“Hey, Alyssa!”

Alyssa spun in her chair to see Greg, one of the photographers, in her doorway. She gave him a polite smile while Kaylee glared at him.

“Go away, Greg,” Kaylee deadpanned.

“Kaylee!” Alyssa chastised. “What’s up, Greg?”

The man held up a flash drive. “Was on my way to Angie, thought I would pop in and say hi.”

“Yes, you’re just always ‘popping in’, aren’t you?” Kaylee muttered quietly. Alyssa flicked her in the shoulder. Greg furrowed his brow, clearly only catching part of what the woman said.

“Well, uh, I’ll let you go,” he said reluctantly. He turned to walk off before doing a spin and coming back. “Hey, Alyssa, you wouldn’t by chance be interested in getting dinner this wee-”

“She’s busy. Bye Greg!” Kaylee told him loudly. Greg clamped his mouth shut, getting the message, and left the office.

Alyssa gave her friend an exasperated look. “Why are you always mean to him?”

Kaylee shrugged. “Cause you never are,” she explained as if it were obvious. “Lys, you need to tell him to back off. Otherwise, he’s just gonna keep asking you out.”

The brunette sighed. “I know.”

Kaylee suddenly got a gleeful look on her face. “I have a brilliant beyond brilliant idea! Why don’t you just tell him that you’re gay? That’ll solve everything!”

“We’ve been over this, Kaylee! I don’t want everyone at my work to know about my personal life. It’s bad enough not being taken seriously because of my mom. If people knew I was a lesbian, I would be even more of a joke to some of them.”

“Anyone who knows you knows that you’re not a joke,” Kaylee told her softly. “But I get it about your mom; it can’t be easy being the daughter of one of the greatest reporters this side of century.”

Alyssa rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the reminder, Kay.”

Kaylee put her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Look, I know that you don’t like to hurt people’s feelings, but there’s no point in letting Greg think he has a shot when he doesn’t.” She paused. “Unless you’ve been lying to me this whole time and you’re not actually gay.”

Alyssa barked out a laugh. “Oh, trust me, I’m gay, very gay.”

“Cool. Just tell him that. Greg’s harmless; he’ll be hurt for a while, but we both know that he’ll stop pestering you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Kaylee squeezed her shoulder before retracting her hand. “Okay, I gotta go write some gossip.”

“Anything good happening?”

“Eh, not really. I’m gonna go see if I can dig something up on the Jonas Brothers.”

Alyssa snorted. “Kay, those guys are, like, the cleanest in Hollywood.”

Kaylee held up her index finger. “One: they’re not in Hollywood.” She held up her second finger. “And two: they’re not the cleanest; that’s Hugh Jackman.” She grinned and Alyssa’s answering laugh followed her out the door.

***

Emma stepped out of the elevator to find Kevin standing outside the morgue. He had his back to the door, staring resolutely at the wall.

“Aw, you still can’t handle seeing dead people flayed open?” Emma asked jokingly. Instead of his usual snap of ‘Fuck off’, Kevin just shook his head. He was a bit pale. Emma frowned. “Dude, you okay?”

“Just a little queasy,” Kevin said weakly. “Think I’ll sit this one out.”

“Alright, that’s fine. They just brought the boyfriend in. Do you wanna go question him while I talk to the doc?”

Kevin nodded and sped off to the elevator. Emma chuckled; who would’ve thought that she had a stronger stomach than Detective Shields?

She pushed open the windowless door to the morgue. The room was spacious, white, and smelled of numerous chemicals. There were two tables in the middle of the room. Emily Mullins was on one of them. She was face up with a sheet covering her naked body. Emma clenched her jaw at seeing the dead woman’s face. Even though she could stomach it, she still hated seeing dead bodies, especially when they were young.

An older man was bent over her body, examining her neck. Emma cleared her throat and the man snapped his head up.

“Detective!” Dr. Trent Oliver greeted cheerfully. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Emma nodded to the woman. “I was hoping you had something on the victim.”

“Ah. Not much, just yet, I’m afraid,” Trent said. “I haven’t even done the slicing and dicing.” Emma shook her head at his choice of words. Trent furrowed his brow. “Use a different phrase?” Emma nodded. “Very well. I have yet to begin the internal exam.”

Emma nodded. “Better.”

“But I do have a cause of death!” Trent pointed to the victim’s neck. “Strangulation.”

Emma approached the table, bending over the body much like Trent did. “So, it wasn’t the knife wounds?”

“Nope, those were post mortem, I believe.” He reached over the woman and rolled her so that she was laying on her side so Emma could see the angry markings on the back. “I’ve counted six stab wounds. But there was hardly any blood loss, which leads me to believe that these were done after the woman had passed.”

Anger surged through Emma. “So, killing her wasn’t enough,” she noted. “He had to stab her. This was personal.” She thought of Kevin interrogating the boyfriend and really hoped he got something out of him. “Do you have a time of death?”

Trent gently laid the woman back down supine. “I’d say about eight hours ago, so around 4:30 in the morning. Toxicology is running now. I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Emma said. She left the room, shaking off the chill that always lived in that place.

***

“He has an alibi,” Kevin told Emma as he fell into his desk chair across from her. Emma switched her attention to her partner instead of the paperwork in front of her.

“The boyfriend?” Kevin nodded. Emma swore and tossed down her pen. “Where was he then?”

“At a bar, O’Connells off of 54th. He was there with his sidepiece.”

Emma furrowed her brow. “Sidepiece? You mean…” Kevin nodded. Emma shook her head in disgust. “Fucking scumbag.”

“Tell me about it,” Kevin agreed. “I don’t know why these boys think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s not just boys,” Emma reminded him.

“Anyway, the girl he was seeing, Clara, confirmed that he was with her all night. Plus, the dozen other witnesses at the bar.”

“Doc said time of death was around 4:30 AM; he could’ve been away from Clara at that time.”

Kevin tilted his head. “Possibly, but she did say that he was there when she woke up around eight this morning.”

“What time did the boyfriend say he found the victim again?”

“9:15 AM.” He paused. “Hmm, I’ll put in a request for the security footage from Clara’s apartment building. Maybe we can catch him leaving in the night and coming back.”

“Worth a shot.”

Kevin stood back up just as a voice called out through the bullpen.

“Shields, Nolan! In my office.”

Emma groaned. “This should be fun,” she muttered to her partner.

The detectives entered the office of their captain, Tom Hawkins. Hawkins was a good captain; smart, dependable, experienced, and he was kind most of the time but when he wasn’t…one did not want to be on the receiving side of his wrath. Emma had learned a lot from him over the years. She really hoped this wasn’t one of those angry talks.

Hawkins jumped right into it as soon as Kevin shut the door to the office behind him.

“I just got a phone call from the Queens station. They’re wanting to know if you have any leads on the Mullins murder.” Emma and Kevin shared a glance.

“Not yet, sir,” Emma answered. “Dr. Oliver said she died by strangulation. He’s performing the autopsy now and the lab techs are running tests.”

“The boyfriend has an alibi,” Kevin jumped in. “But I’m checking on it. And we have officers getting statements from the neighbors.”

Captain Hawkins nodded as he listened. He stared out of the window once they were done, collecting his thoughts. “It appears,” he began. “that there have been similar murders across the boroughs.”

“What do you mean similar murders, sir?” Kevin asked.

“Emily Mullins had dark hair, yes?” he inquired, still staring out the window.

Kevin furrowed his brow. “Yes.”

Hawkins was quiet, and then, “Four other women have been murdered,” he revealed. “All with dark hair.”

Four?

Ice crawled into Emma’s veins. Time stopped. “Sir,” she cleared her throat as it had gotten weak. “Sir, are you saying that we have a serial killer?”

Hawkins turned to them. His eyes were steady, but heavy with emotion. “We very well might.”


	2. II

**Chapter Two**

Everything stilled in the room, even the air. Emma stared at Captain Hawkins.

“Serial killer?” she repeated disbelievingly. “That’s—no, we would’ve heard.”

“You’re hearing it now,” Hawkins stated. “Detective Boomer from Queens reached out. You know him, don’t you Detective Shields?”

Kevin nodded. “We were partners before we got promoted.”

“Well, he and Detective Hendrickson are on their way over now.”

Emma straightened, alert. “Wait, we’re not handing the case over, are we, sir?”

“No. For now we’re just exchanging information. If there really is a serial killer, we’ll need all the power we can get,” the Captain explained. “When they get here, go into one of the conference rooms, learn what you can. Until then, keep quiet.”

The two detectives dismissed themselves. Emma walked back to her desk in a trance. Kevin sat at his own across from her. He stared absently at his computer. Neither spoke; Emma was still trying to wrap her head around what she just heard.

Serial killer.

In her four years of being a detective, she had never encountered one. Where did she even start?

Her eyes drifted to her desk and she opened the file there which contained the photos from the Mullins crime scene. Minutes passed, Emma sifting through the file while Kevin continued to stare at nothing, before a voice called Kevin’s name.

Nick Boomer and his partner, Chad Hendrickson, were at the elevator with an officer. Nick grinned.

“How’s it going, buddy?” Kevin made his way over, Emma following with the file. Nick noticed Kevin’s somber expression and his smile fell. “I know,” he said quietly as the two shook hands.

“Yeah,” Kevin said and cleared his throat. He nodded his head to the side. “There’s a room this way where we can talk.”

Emma trailed after the two of them, Detective Hendrickson beside her. The four of them entered a windowless room that contained a long, oval wooden table with numerous chairs. They sat, and Nick immediately opened the conversation.

“Captain Hawkins tell you what’s going on?” Emma nodded.

“Is it true?” Kevin asked. “Is there a serial killer?”

“We think so,” Nick said regretfully. He and Chad flipped open their files, fanning out crime scene photos. Emma’s stomach churned at the pictures; all the victims were young women.

“Four victims, all Caucasian women with dark hair,” Chad explained. “All between the ages of 28 and 32. All strangled.”

“Our vic was only 24,” Kevin said. “You think she’s part of this?”

Nick shrugged. “It’s possible. She was found near Columbia?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s the first from there.” Nick pointed to three of the women. “These women were from Queens.” He pointed to the fourth woman. “This one was from the Bronx.”

Emma frowned. “So, a serial killer who’s going through the boroughs and targeting brunettes?”

“We think so.”

“Who are the victims?”

Chad took over. He pointed to each of the women in turn as he spoke.

“Jennifer Wilson, 29. She was found strangled in her apartment in Queens by her landlord back in April. She was the first. She worked as a receptionist at some law firm. Then there was Candace Kwitkowski, 27. She was an exotic dancer/singer at Vixens, a gentlemen’s club. She was strangled in her apartment and subsequently found by her landlord when her boss came around saying how she hadn’t been to work for a few days.

“Molly Marshall, 32. She was found strangled in her home over in Queens. She was found by the delivery man. She was a spin instructor. And finally,” he pointed to the last photo. “Amy Westbrook, 28. She was found strangled at her apartment in the Bronx. Her roommate came home to her lying in the middle of the living room. She was a waitress at a local diner.”

Emma’s stomach churned as she took in each woman’s face; it was all so terrible. Amy still had her glazed eyes open in the picture.

“Jesus,” Kevin muttered. “You said the first victim was found when?”

“April,” Chad answered.

Emma snapped her eyes to him. “This has been going on since April? That’s five months ago! Why are we only hearing about this now?” she asked angrily.

“We didn’t know about the victim in the Bronx until nearly two months after it happened,” Nick said. “Different boroughs, you know how it is.” Emma did, but she kept her mouth shut. “It wasn’t until we had our third victim in Queens that we thought something might be going on and we reached out. Captain Hawkins called us first thing when he heard about your victim.”

“Who is she anyways?” Chad asked. Emma and Kevin quickly filled them in on Emily Mullins. “And the boyfriend is clean?”

“Seems to be,” Kevin said. “But I’m following it up.”

“Any leads?” Emma asked Nick and Chad.

“No,” Nick said regretfully. “We haven’t found a connection between any of them, except for their age and hair color and, well, the strangulation part. And no DNA has come up so far.”

Emma raised her eyebrows. “Nothing? Well then how do we even know this is a serial killer? It could be separate.”

“C’mon, Emma, five women killed throughout New York with these similarities? It’s not a coincidence.”

Emma knew that he was most likely right, but, “A serial killer. How long has it been since we had one of those here?”

“Not long,” Chad answered immediately. “There was the Long Island serial killer just a few years ago. Nobody’s been caught.”

Emma eyed him warily; what an interesting thing to know.

“There’s more details in the folders,” Nick said. “You can keep these; they’re copies.” They began organizing the files back together. “I’m assuming that Hawkins is going to want you two on this case full time from now on. Keep us in the loop and we’ll do the same. The Bronx is working with us too. We’ll get this bastard.”

Emma gave a determined nod. Damn right they will.

They said their goodbyes and Nick and Chad left the room.

Kevin scrubbed at his face. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink tonight.”

“Same. Tony’s?”

***

Tony’s was never intended to be a cop bar. At least, that’s what the owner, Barry Glickman, would say. When he bought the building years ago, he envisioned a bar where lovers of the stage could come and sing karaoke and talk about musicals and share stories, hence the name of the bar. However, the building was only a block away from the police station. So, instead of customers of the theatrical variety, Tony’s received police officers, young and old, current and retired.

Years later, Barry couldn’t complain; cops apparently loved karaoke when they had enough alcohol in them, and the stories they had! Barry had heard so many. The people were great too; he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he had favorites, one of them being—

“Emma!”

The detective had just stepped in, Kevin behind her. Barry raised his eyebrows.

“And Kevin?” he yells dramatically. “Wait, this can’t be true; Kevin never comes out anymore.”

“Har har,” Kevin deadpanned as he and Emma parked themselves on some stools. “It’s cause Shelby never wants to come anymore.”

“Really? Your wife who’s 30 plus weeks pregnant doesn’t want to spend her evening in a bar after teaching little kids how to sing all day?” Barry questioned sarcastically. “What a monster.”

Kevin gave a guilty look. “She doesn’t want me to drink while she’s pregnant, but I really need something tonight.”

“Tough case?” Barry asked.

Kevin nodded. “Not a fun one.”

Barry nodded sympathetically and ducked away before returning with a couple of beers. The detectives clinked them together before taking long sips.

“Hey,” Emma said, keeping her voice low so that Barry couldn’t hear them from where he was helping different customers a few paces away. “What do you know about Hendrickson?”

“Nick’s partner?”

“Yeah.”

Kevin shrugged and took a pull of his beer. “I don’t know much about him. Nick likes him though. Why?”

“I don’t know. He’s just odd to me. I mean, he knew that serial killer fact like that.” She snapped her fingers.

“So, he’s into true crime. We’re detectives. Don’t get hung up on it, Emma.”

She went to argue when the door opened.

Henry Roland, the officer who had been at the scene that morning, strolled in with a beautiful, leggy blonde attached to his arm. He nodded in greeting to the two detectives as he passed.

Kevin whistled lowly. “Rookie Roland with the hot date,” he commented as Roland and the woman sat down at a table. “How did he manage that?”

“And why did he bring her to a bar?” Emma questioned.

“Hey!” Barry interjected, returned to them after helping customers. “My bar is a fine establishment, thank you very much.” He glanced to Roland. “Why do you call him Rookie Roland? Hasn’t he been on the force longer than you two?”

“Yep, but he’s constantly making rookie mistakes,” Emma said before taking a sip of her beer. “Hence, Rookie Roland.”

“He’s forgotten to wear gloves at crime scenes more times than is acceptable,” Kevin added. Barry winced. “Cases have nearly gone to shit cause of him.”

Emma shot her partner a grin. “Remember when we convinced him that Celine Dion had died?”

Barry gasped. “How dare you utter such a thing!” The detectives ignored him.

“He was so pissed,” Kevin said with a distant look in his eye as he relived the prank.

It was quiet for a moment before Emma began to laugh. Kevin joined in and soon they were laughing hysterically. Barry eyed them warily.

“What’s going on with you two?”

Emma gradually composed herself. “Nothing, nothing. Just needed a laugh is all.”

“Yeah, that was good.” Kevin finished his beer. “And with that, I’m off; need to see the wife.” He dropped a few bills for Barry and clapped Emma’s shoulder. “See ya in the morning. We’ll get a running start.”

**One Week Later**

Emma was ready to bang her head against a wall. She and Kevin had scoured the crime scene multiple times. They even invited Nick and Chad to come look with fresh eyes. No DNA other than the victims had been found. Emma didn’t understand it; how could a murder scene not contain any DNA from the killer?

Kevin had spotted security cameras outside of the apartment building and had tasked Carrie, one of the analysts, to go over the footage. She wasn’t too pleased since she was also analyzing video feeds from Clara’s apartment, where Kyle Baker had claimed to be the night his girlfriend was strangled.

Emma didn’t think he had anything to do with it; Kevin had told her that the kid was a blubbering mess during the interrogation. Still, they had to wait until Kyle Baker was not seen leaving Clara’s apartment before they took him off the suspect list.

And when that happened, they were back to square one because there were no other suspects.

Uniformed officers and detectives alike had spent hours interviewing friends, family, and neighbors of Emily Mullins. Not one person had noticed anything out of the ordinary. And the people close to Emily had never seen her with any of the other murdered women before and vice versa.

“Fuck,” Emma muttered as she glared at the bulletin board that had been wheeled in the conference room. The case was still need to know, so Captain Hawkins had stuck them in a room away from the others. “What is the connection between these girls?”

“Their brown hair,” Kevin supplied unhelpfully from behind her as he squeezed a stress ball. He scratched at his chin. Emma noticed the stubble that had grown. It was odd; she had never seen her partner not clean shaven. “And the fact that they’re all white women.”

“There’s gotta be something else, though,” Emma said. “It can’t just be random.”

“What if it is?” Kevin challenged. “All of the victims are different. They have different jobs, different education, are in different economic classes. Some were born in New York, others moved here from out of state. Hell, even their eye color is different.”

Emma gritted her teeth. “There has to be a connection. What similarities do they have?”

She didn’t need to look at Kevin to know he was rolling his eyes. They had gone over this dozens of times.

“Besides the obvious?” Kevin drawled. Emma ignored him and went up to the board.

“They’re all single, right? None of them were married.”

“Emily had a boyfriend.”

“Not serious, though. All of her friends said that were constantly on/off,” Emma reminded Kevin. “So single, and younger women, and all living in apartments.”

“Almost everyone in NYC lives in apartments, Emma,” Kevin countered exasperatedly. Emma snapped.

“Well, excuse me for trying to catch this killer, Kevin!” Emma roared, rounding on her partner. Kevin almost toppled in his chair at the sudden change in her tone. “I’m trying to do my job while you’re just sitting there and squeezing that fucking ball! How about you actually try to come up with something that’s useful.”

She stormed out of the conference room, deciding that she would go visit Trent. The doctor most likely wouldn’t have any news to give, but she just needed to get out of the room; it was too stuffy.

***

Alyssa sat at her desk, looking through the notes she had garnered about the murder of Amy Westbrook in the Bronx. The police hadn’t released many details because it was still an open investigation, but Alyssa had a funny feeling about it. She knew the victim was a young woman with dark hair, which in and of itself was not odd, but the reporter had heard rumors that a couple of women in Queens also with dark hair had been killed.

Alyssa’s wheels turned. Was there something here; some connection? She was probably grasping at straws, but—

“Alyssa?”

Alyssa closed her eyes and suppressed a groan before turning to see Greg in her doorway. He had on a smile.

“What do you need Greg?” she asked, her tone a little short. Greg appeared not to notice. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder.

“Dee Dee wants to see you.”

Alyssa raised a brow. “You’re her messenger now?”

Greg shrugged. “I was leaving Angie’s office and Dee Dee yelled at me to get you.”

“Did she know your name?”

“Eh, she called my Gary, so…close enough.”

Alyssa giggled before sighing, mentally preparing herself for the slew of backhanded compliments Dee Dee was sure to throw at her before inevitably asking her how her next article was coming along. Alyssa idolized her boss; Dee Dee was tough and respected and extremely knowledgeable, but she could be a bit much sometimes, a bit egocentric.

“Okay, thanks Greg,” Alyssa said, turning back to her desk. She hoped to hear his retreating footsteps, but—

“Um, so I was wondering if you wanted-”

Alyssa’s phone rang. Relief flooded through her, saved by the bell. She held up a finger to Greg as she answered, “This is Alyssa.”

“Did Gary find you?” Dee Dee’s voice asked.

“Yes, Greg found me.” She shot an apologetic smile to Greg, who was looking slightly dejected.

“Oh, that’s his name? Whatever. Why aren’t you here already?”

The brunette rolled her eyes. “I’m on my way.”

Dee Dee was staring out her window when Alyssa entered the large office.

“Alyssa! Excellent! I’d like you to meet Natalie.” Dee Dee waved her hand to a beaming young blonde who was in one of the chairs in front of Dee Dee’s desk. “She’s an investigative journalist here.”

Alyssa smiled politely. “It’s nice to me-”

“Natalie was just leaving,” Dee Dee interrupted.

“I-what?” Natalie looked to Dee Dee, who shrugged.

“I don’t need you here anymore,” she said bluntly.

Natalie furrowed her brow. “But I thought you said I was going to talk to-”

“Bye Natalie,” Dee Dee said with finality. The blonde rolled her eyes and exited the office.

Dee Dee turned her attention to Alyssa, who was still at the door. “Do you know why I introduced you to her?”

“Um, to make friends?”

“Ew, gross. No.” Dee Dee gestured to the chairs and Alyssa took the hint. Dee Dee clasped her hands together as she took her own seat. “She’s an investigative journalist.”

“Yes, you said.”

“That’s what I want you to do.”

Alyssa tilted her head. “I’m sorry?”

“Investigate!” Dee Dee exclaimed. “You’re a crime reporter who has not given me a story about this serial killer. You need to investigate.”

Alyssa’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, serial killer? Who said it was a serial killer? Is it a serial killer?”

“I have my sources,” Dee Dee answered vaguely. “But yes, I believe it is. Have you not figured that out yet?”

Alyssa’s stomach felt like lead; she hadn’t picked up on that. She figured that there was some type of connection, but she never thought of it being a serial killer. It seemed unreal.

“You haven’t.” Dee Dee said knowingly. Her voice was harsh. “Know how I know? Because otherwise your article would be on my desk.”

“I…I guess I--”

Dee Dee held up her hand. “I don’t want excuses. I want a story.” She paused. “Alyssa, you are a fantastic reporter, but you stay on the sidelines too much, especially being a crime reporter. You need to go ask questions. Not to the cops; they won’t give you anything. Go to the loved ones of the victims.”

Alyssa’s stomach churned. “Ms. Allen, isn’t that illegal? Interfering with an ongoing investigation?”

“Asking people questions and having them answer is not against the law. And I’m not condoning any illegal activity; I’m not asking you to trespass on crime scenes. Just figure out what you can from those who aren’t in law enforcement. Be investigative.” She paused and eyed Alyssa. “If you can’t, I’m going to have to give this story to someone who can investigate.”

It was clear she was talking about Natalie. Alyssa clenched her jaw, suddenly not liking the friendly blonde very much.

“Any questions?” Dee Dee asked. Alyssa shook her head. “Good. Now, shoo.”

Alyssa ambled back to her office to find Greg sitting in her chair. He smiled brightly at her.

“How was Dee Dee?”

She didn’t smile back. Instead, she crossed her arms and quirked an eyebrow. Greg’s smile faded. “Right. Well, I’ll just let you get back to whatever you were doing.”

“That’d probably be for the best since I have a lot of work to get done.”

Greg brushed past her, saying “Have a nice day,” before exiting her office.

“You too,” she mumbled distractedly as she sat and began sifting through her notes.

She was not going to get this story stolen.

A knock on her door made her growl.

“Greg, I’m not the in the mood right now.”

Kaylee stepped into the room. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not Greg then.” She quirked an eyebrow up. “What’s got you all upset?”

Alyssa sighed. “I don’t really have time to talk right now.”

Kaylee pursed her lips. “Alright, we’ll talk later. There this really cool bar that I’ve been wanting to take you to. I’ll text you the address.”

She already had her phone out as she swept out of Alyssa’s office. A few seconds later, the reporter’s phone chimed. The message indeed had an address and an eight o’clock request time.

***

Emma chose to stop at the lab first, putting off entering the cold morgue for as long as possible. One of the lab techs, Marcus, noticed her entering.

“Detective Nolan,” he greeted. “I was about to call you.”

Emma’s eyes lit up. “You have something?”

“Not much, I’m afraid,” he remarked. He slid his goggles off, mussing up his mop of dark hair. He wheeled his office chair to a separate table with a microscope. He peered through it and fiddled with the knobs as he spoke. “Dr. Oliver brought some samples from underneath the victim’s fingernails.”

Excitement rose in Emma’s stomach. “Please tell me they’re skin cells, o-or some type of DNA.”

“Unfortunately not. They’re fibers from gloves, we’re assuming latex gloves.”

Emma clenched her jaw; the killer wasn’t dumb. “Anything else?”

“Yep.” Marcus swiveled in his chair to face Emma. “Officer Roland left his prints on some evidence again.”

“Again? Jesus, I’m gonna kill that guy.” Emma sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “How many pieces did he touch before he remembered to put his gloves on?”

“Just a couple. We haven’t found any other prints on them though, or anything actually.”

“I’ll have a talk with him. Again. Thanks Marcus.”

***

Trent was holding a dark red…something when Emma pushed through the doors. She eyed it warily.

“Uhh…”

The doctor lifted his eyes to her, hearing her voice. “Detective Nolan!”

“Hi, Doc.” She pointed. “Um, what is that?”

Trent glanced to his hand. “Oh! This is a corazon.” He held the organ out proudly.

Emma recoiled slightly. “That’s a heart?”

“It indeed is!”

Emma’s eyes wandered to the body’s face, but it was covered with a sheet. Emma swallowed.

“Is that Emily Mullins’ heart?”

Trent shook his head. “Oh no, this is Carl Brook’s heart. I finished Emily’s autopsy a few days ago. There’s still some tests being run.”

Emma’s stomach churned. She peeled her eyes away from the heart. “Uh, okay. So, there’s nothing new? Marcus told me about the gloves.”

“Oh, is that what the sample came back as? Darn, I was hoping it would be some skin.” Trent carefully lowered the heart onto the scale before speaking into his recorder about the weight. “I can tell you that Miss Mullins was laying prone, as in on her stomach, when she was stabbed.”

“And you said that there was no sign of rape, right?”

“No.”

Emma let out a breath; she had been praying that the poor girl hadn’t been raped. Trent continued.

“No drugs or toxins were found in her system. There was some alcohol, but I’m guessing that she was a social drinker; her liver does not show any damage.”

“Alright, thanks, Doc.” Emma turned to leave, before hesitating. “Did…have you heard anything about other women being murdered?”

Trent furrowed his brow. “What do you mean, detective? My job is to perform autopsies, so I am often hearing about murder victims.”

“No, that’s not what I—you know what, never mind.” She turned away. “Thanks again.”

***

Emma returned to her desk, after reaming out Officer Roland for the fingerprint fiasco, to find Kevin at his desk. He brought his eyes up from a file when Emma approached. Guilt dropped in Emma’s stomach at the way she had snapped at him in the conference room.

“Hey. I’m sorry about yelling at you.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Kevin said immediately. “I was being a jerk earlier. This is all just so frustrating, and Shelby isn’t sleeping so I’m not sleeping and-”

“Dude, seriously, it’s okay.” Emma sat in her chair. She nodded to the file. “Did something come up?”

“Nothing good. Carrie told me that she didn’t see Kyle Baker leaving Clara’s apartment at all the night Emily was murdered.”

Emma nodded slowly. “So, we officially have no suspects.”

“Nope. She’s still working on the security footage from Emily Mullins’ apartment building.”

Emma gave a long sigh. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Also, I had a thought.”

“Hit me.”

“I know that we said that Emily Mullins probably didn’t lock her door and that’s how the killer got in. But what if it wasn’t that?”

“The windows were locked.”

“No, not that. What if she let him in?”

Emma turned to him, pursing her lips. “ _Let_ him in?”

“Yeah. I mean, the chances of this guy breaking into different homes and not leaving any traces of an actual break in? I don’t buy it.” He rubbed his chin. “Let’s try a different angle: that the killer was willingly let in by the victims. Like he was posing as a pizza guy or something.”

Emma mulled it over. “It’s a thought. Did Emily’s phone records show her calling for a pizza, or any delivery?”

“No. But what if it was a Tinder thing? Like the Craigslist killer? All of the women we’re meeting up with a guy from Tinder and he killed them.”

Emma bobbed her head back and forth. “Emily was in a relationship.”

“You admitted that everyone said it was on/off.”

“Hmm, okay,” Emma conceded. “We can check her phone records again.”

But the phone records showed nothing promising. No suspicious calls or text messages were made days leading up to Emily’s murder. The two detectives had even skimmed over the other victims’ phone records. No such luck.

Hours later, Captain Hawkins called them into his office.

“I want an update on the serial killer case.”

Kevin explained his theory about the killer being let in by the victims.

Captain Hawkins gave a curt nod when he was done. “That’s good thinking, Detective Shields. Unfortunately, that’s not all I brought you in for.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “No, please don’t tell me…” She trailed off. Captain Hawkins had a grim look as he confirmed her fears.

“Another body’s been found.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise there's more interaction between Emma and Alyssa next chapter.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are mine.

* * *

Tasha Evans. Age 26. Worked at Target. Was a member of her church choir. Volunteered at the soup kitchen. Single. Lived in Manhattan. Found dead, strangled, in her apartment by her roommate. Had dark hair. Everything fit for her to be the next victim of the serial killer, except for one thing.

“She’s not white,” Emma noted, looking down at the biracial woman. “How do we know that this wasn’t done by someone else?”

“Because the killer left something,” Captain Hawkins stated.

“What is it?” Kevin asked eagerly.

“A note,” another voice supplied. Detective Hendrickson approached them with an evidence bag.

Emma clenched her jaw. “What’re you doing here?” she asked him as Kevin took the bag.

He raised an eyebrow. “I was in the area when the call came over the radio,” Chad explained. “Thought I would stop by just to make sure it wasn’t related to our case.”

“What a coincidence,” Emma said dryly. “And the officers just let you in?” Chad tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. Before he could respond, however, Captain Hawkins interjected.

“Detective Nolan, it was lucky that Detective Hendrickson was able to get here quickly,” he admonished. “Less chance of the scene becoming contaminated.”

Emma disagreed, but she bit her tongue and turned to Kevin. “What does the note say?”

He tilted it to show her the typed message:

_Fuckers—_

“How elegant,” Emma muttered.

_You think you can catch me? You’ll never catch me. I am too smart for the idiotic NYPD! Quit while you’re behind._

“God, he’s cocky,” Kevin said. “I can’t wait til we catch him so I can punch him in the face.”

“You do the punching and I’ll kick him in the balls,” Emma added.

Kevin handed the note to one of the crime scene techs. “I’ll have someone call the doc.”

Chad stopped him. “Can’t the autopsy be done by the ME in Queens?”

Emma frowned. “Why? This is our jurisdiction.”

“Our ME has done the autopsies of most of the victims. He’d be better at finding a possible lead.”

“True, but this is Manhattan, not Queens,” Kevin said.

“Dr. Oliver is doing the autopsy,” Emma said with finality.

Chad held up his hands in surrender. “Whatever you say.” He gave a smarmy smile. Emma barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She looked at the techs and officers milling about the apartment. 

“Roland,” she called, interrupting the (fortunately gloved) man from examining some framed pictures on the wall. “Can you call Dr. Oliver and have him meet us here?” He nodded and pulled out his phone.

“I’m gonna go request the security footage, if there is any,” Kevin said and left the unit.

Emma moved through the room, crouching down to better look at the victim. There was no struggle this time; everything in the apartment looked pristine. There were also no apparent stab wounds. She gloved her hands and brushed aside some of the victim’s hair, seeing her face. It looked peaceful, almost as if she were sleeping. Emma sighed; this job never got easier.

Nick strolled into the apartment.

“There’s a flock of reporters outside,” he said as he donned some gloves.

“I’ll go talk to them,” Chad offered.

Emma bolted up. “No! That’s, uh, I’ll do it.” Both of the detectives stared at her. “I…I just mean that I typically do it.”

“But this is your crime scene, right? Your jurisdiction?” Chad said, repeating her words from earlier. “So, I’ll go get rid of them, I insist.”

Emma, not seeing a valid reason to argue, reluctantly agreed. Once Chad left, she went over to the window. Sure enough, she could see the dark curls of Alyssa.

Dammit. A wasted opportunity.

“Emma.” She turned to see Nick standing with a young man. “This is Johnny Genson. He was Tasha’s roommate. Wanna talk with him?”

Emma approached them. “Hi, Johnny. I’m Detective Emma Nolan. I’m sorry about your loss. You were the one to find Tasha, right?” Johnny nodded. “I know this is hard right now, but anything you can tell us is helpful in finding her killer. Do you know anyone that would want to hurt her?”

Johnny shook his head, his jaw clenched, tears falling freely. He wouldn’t look at Emma, instead staring at the body of Tasha behind her. “Sh-she was the nicest person I knew; wouldn’t hurt a fly. Everyone l-liked her.”

“When did you find her?”

“This afternoon, around 2:30 I think.”

“Were you here last night?” Johnny snapped his eyes to her. “Don’t worry, I’m not asking because we think you’re a suspect. We just need to know if anyone else was here.”

“I was with my boyfriend last night. Didn’t come home til a few hours ago.”

“Okay. Was Tasha seeing anyone? A boyfriend?”

“No, she would’ve told me. She was single, loved being single.” He chuckled. “I never understood it. She could have anyone she wanted, but she never dated.”

“What about Tinder, or another hook up site? Was she into casual dating?”

Johnny shrugged. “She had an account, but she didn’t do it too much. She was more about having friends than a lover.”

“Okay, thank you, Johnny.” Emma reached into her pocket and pulled out a card. “This is my number. Contact me if you can think of anything, alright? I’ll need you to pack a few things and stay elsewhere for a little bit. I’m sorry again.”

An officer tailed Johnny into his bedroom to pack a bag. Trent walked in a few moments later. He stared at Tasha’s body on the floor before acknowledging anyone.

“Hey, Doc,” Emma said. Trent snapped his head up, as if breaking out a spell. “Thanks for coming so quick.” Emma studied him. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, yes, it’s just…” he trailed off. “I was told that this woman was strangled.”

“It appears so.” She pointed to Tasha’s neck. “Crime scene techs noticed bruises around her throat.”

“Hmm, yes I agree with that. But I’m worried.” Emma raised a brow. “This is the second woman to be strangled within the past month. I’m worried that there’s a pattern emerging.”

Emma gave him a grim smile. “Well, you were always smart, Doc.”

Trent paled. “Oh, oh no, you don’t mean—”

“Perhaps we should discuss this later,” Captain Hawkins intervened with a stern look to both of them. “Dr. Oliver, if you will just examine the body, I promise to bring you up to speed later.”

“Of course, sir.”

Trent crouched down next to the body, performing a few tasks and making notes on his pad. Emma and Nick stood to the side.

Kevin stepped back into the scene. “We might be in luck. There are security cameras on every corner of this building and in the entry and one in each hall.”

“Seriously? That’s amazing. Think Carrie will not hate our guts?” Emma asked.

“Oh, she’ll definitely hate us,” Kevin said. “But it’ll be worth it if we can just get a look at this bastard’s face.”

Trent lifted one of Tasha’s arm, testing it. “Rigor mortis has set in. It’s too difficult to estimate a time of death. I need to run different tests.”

“Could you give a guess?” Nick asked. “Such as between three in the afternoon and midnight yesterday?”

Trent looked at him. “That’s an interesting time frame.”

“It’s typically when the killer strikes,” Emma explained. “Most of the victims were killed in the later evening.”

“Yeah. This guy likes to come when people are still awake,” Nick said. “That’s risky.”

“He likes the challenge.”

“Except for Emily Mullins who was killed in the middle of the night,” Kevin pointed out.

Emma frowned. “Yeah, why is that?”

Hawkins stepped in, ending the detectives’ ramblings. “Dr. Oliver, can you tell us much more about the victim?”

Trent pursed his lips as he thought. “Not at the moment. I need to get her into my lab.”

“Alright, let’s move her. Have officers get statements and get back to the station,” Hawkins told the detectives.

Johnny shuffled out of his room with a duffel bag and froze.

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Johnny? Everything okay?”

The boy started. “What? Oh, yeah. Everything’s cool.”

He sped out of the apartment before Emma could ask anything else. She turned her eyes to see what could have spooked him and found Chad, who was explaining something to Officer Roland. Huh.

***

Emma found herself at Tony’s a few hours later, alone. Kevin had bowed out due to Shelby having a birthing class he had to attend. Emma slowly sipped her beer, lost in her thoughts. Evidence had been tagged and bagged and sent to the lab. The autopsy would be performed in the morning. Carrie had the overnight analyst going over the security footage. All Emma could do now was wait.

Wait—which she absolutely hated—and think about everything. Why was the killer murdering in the evening? How was he getting in? And why was Emily Mullins the only victim that was stabbed postmortem?

It was driving Emma crazy, all the uncertainty. She would much rather be thinking of something else—

“Detective Nolan?”

Emma turned and nearly choked on her beer upon seeing Alyssa standing a few feet away. She let her eyes quickly run over the brunette, taking in the soft burgundy sweater and black pants. She looked good.

Alyssa laughed, snapping Emma’s eyes back up to hers. “I guess this really is a cop bar, huh?”

Emma set down her beer. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that already, with how much you follow us around. Would you like our home addresses, too?” she asked sarcastically.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Alyssa said. “I only follow you because it’s my job.”

“So, you admit that you follow us,” she joked. She took a sip of her beer and nodded to the stool next to her. “Wanna sit?”

“Umm,” Alyssa elongated the word as she scanned over the room. “I-yeah, I guess I can.”

“You’re meeting someone.” It wasn’t a question.

“I am,” Alyssa confirmed, and Emma shook away her feeling of jealousy. Alyssa plopped down on the stool. “But they’re not here yet, so…”

Barry wandered over to them and Alyssa ordered a beer. Emma arched an eyebrow. “I would’ve taken you as more of a Long Island iced tea kind of girl.”

Alyssa gave a coy smile. “Well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought, Detective.”

“Emma.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m off duty. You can call me Emma.”

“Oh.” Alyssa gave her a soft smile. “Then please call me Alyssa. Miss Greene makes me feel like I’m my mother.”

Emma grinned. “And that would be a bad thing?”

Alyssa bit her lip and thanked Barry when he returned with her drink. “Let’s just say that I would prefer you not to think of my mom when you’re with me.”

“Oh,” Emma muttered with a blush. “That’s…okay noted, Alyssa.” Silence descended on the pair and they both took sips of their beers. Emma looked around. “So, um, what idiot guy is late for your date?”

“Oh, it’s not a date,” Alyssa answered immediately. “I’m just getting a drink with a friend from work.”

“Yeah?” Emma prayed that her face wasn’t revealing how thrilled she was that Alyssa wasn’t on a date.

“Yeah. I’ve had a rough day, rough couple of weeks actually, and my friend wanted to unwind.”

“That’s a good friend.”

The brunette nodded. “Yeah, so it’s just been a lot. Not to mention the fact that this guy at work won’t leave me alone.”

Emma immediately straightened. “What guy? Is he harassing you? Alyssa, you know you can-”

“Oh, no!” Alyssa interrupted. She rushed to clarify, “He’s not a bad guy, trust me, he’s just a little…persistent. He hasn’t done anything to make me uncomfortable and he’s never crossed any lines. He’s just annoying.”

Emma considered her for a moment before relenting. “Okay, if you say so, I won’t hunt him down. Just know that you can come to me anytime for anything like that.”

Alyssa smiled. “Thanks Emma, but everything is alright, I promise. I should really just tell him I’m not interested, and that my interests don’t include any type of guy.”

Emma took in a sharp breath as the words sunk in. Was Alyssa…

“Alyssa, hey!”

Emma turned to see an attractive young woman beside Alyssa. The mystery woman looked familiar, but Emma couldn’t place her.

“Hi Kaylee,” Alyssa said.

Emma sat up straighter; she knew who this was now. Kaylee was a friend of Kevin’s wife, Shelby. She vaguely recalled meeting her at some holiday party the Shields had thrown.

Almost as if she knew she was being thought of, Kaylee slid her eyes to Emma. “You’re Detective Nolan, right?”

Emma nodded. “And you’re a friend of Shelby’s.”

“I am, nice memory,” Kaylee complimented. She gestured to Alyssa. “We work together at the Times. I write for the gossip column.” Emma smiled inwardly; that fit. “I’ll get us a table, Lys.” Kaylee walked off and Alyssa turned back to Emma, who had an amused smile.

“Gossip column, huh?”

Alyssa narrowed her eyes. “Don’t do that,” she scolded. “Yes, she writes for the gossip column, but she is also one of the head writers for the financial news at the Times.”

Emma raised her eyebrows, admonished. “Oh, um-”

“It would do well for you to not jump to conclusions, detective,” Alyssa sniped. “That is part of your job, isn’t it?” She gathered her bag.

“Wait, Alyssa.” Emma lightly grabbed her arm to stop the brunette from storming off. “I’m sorry, okay? You’re absolutely right. That was uncalled for.” Alyssa scrutinized her a bit more before relaxing. Emma reached for a napkin. “Do you have a pen?”

Alyssa rolled her eyes as she dug into her bag. “I’m a reporter, what do you think?”

Emma chuckled and took the offered piece before scribbling down on the napkin. “Here.”

The brunette took the napkin. “What’s this?”

“My number,” Emma explained, hoping her voice didn’t sound nervous. “In case you ever get into a jam that you need help with, or if…just, if you ever need to get a hold of me.”

Alyssa smiled at the gesture. “Thank you, Emma.” Emma waved her off and extended the pen back. Alyssa shook her head. “Keep it, you obviously need an extra one to keep on you.” She winked and turned to stride to the table Kaylee was holding for them.

Emma watched her go, her heart fluttering, her fingers clutched tight over the pen. God, she was giddy over a stupid pen!

“Want another, kid?”

Emma started and whirled around in her stool so fast she almost toppled over. Barry was watching her with an amused expression.

“Another what?” Barry motioned to her empty beer. “Oh, uh, no thanks, I’m good. I think I’m gonna head out, got an early morning.”

“Alright, see you,” Barry said with a grin. He leaned closer to her. “Make sure you don’t lose that pen.”

Emma flipped him off.

***

Alyssa made her way to the booth where a smirking Kaylee sat.

“What was that?” the gossip writer teased with a knowing glint in her eye.

“What was what?”

“Don’t play dumb! What was that that Detective Nolan gave you?”

Alyssa rolled her eyes as she lowered herself in the booth. “It was nothing, Kaylee; don’t get excited.”

Kaylee leaned back. “Sure didn’t seem like nothing, not with the way Nolan stared at your ass as you walked away.” Alyssa felt her cheeks heat. “Or with how flirty you two were being when I came in.”

“We were just getting to know each other without crime scene tape between us,” Alyssa defended weakly. She narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t tell me this was a cop bar. How do you even know about this place?”

Kaylee recognized the abrupt change in topic, but decided to go along. “You know my best friend Shelby? Her husband is a detective. I think he’s Nolan’s partner actually. Anyways, Shelby and I used to come here a lot until she got pregnant.”

Alyssa only registered the first part. “You know Detective Shields? Huh, that explains how you know Emma.”

“We see each other at parties sometimes,” Kaylee revealed. She eyed Alyssa. “Am I detecting a hint of jealousy?”

“What? No, I just didn’t know how you guys met is all.”

It was a lie and they both knew it. Kaylee stared her down for a moment before relenting. They weren’t here to talk about the chemistry between Emma and Alyssa; they were here to talk about—

“Dee Dee,” Kaylee stated. “What happened with her?”

Alyssa’s shoulders slumped as she explained the interaction that had taken place that morning.

“Ouch, I’m sorry, girl,” Kaylee commented once Alyssa was done. “So, what’re you gonna do?”

“Be more investigative, I guess.” She played with the label on her beer. “Kaylee, I really don’t wanna lose this story.”

The other woman reached across the table to touch Alyssa’s wrist. “And you won’t. Lys, you’re gonna figure this out and write the most kick ass piece ever.”

Alyssa smiled sadly. “Thanks.” She paused. “Do you think I stay on the sidelines too much?”

“Not when it comes to writing,” Kaylee said. “You follow the rules, which is really important considering your topic. Your love life on the other hand…”

Alyssa quirked an eyebrow up. “What does that mean?”

Kaylee smiled slyly. “Girl, you need to just jump Nolan.”

“Kaylee!”

Kaylee’s eyes lit up. “Wait! Maybe you can seduce Detective Nolan into giving you details about the case.”

“Yeah, I’m not doing that.”

“Eh, worth a shot.”

Alyssa took a pull from her beer. “I think I have an idea though, of who I could ask about the case.”

“See? Told you you’d figure it out.”

***

The next morning, Emma twirled the pen between her fingers. It was a black pen and it wrote smoothly. The ink dried quickly and it didn’t make her fingers sore. It was probably the best pen she ever used. Then again, maybe she was biased because of the previous owner of said pen—

“Emma.”

She jolted up. Kevin was looking at her expectantly. All four detectives were in the conference room, the board now containing details on Tasha Evans. Emma didn’t understand why they couldn’t work out in the bullpen; most of the force knew that a serial killer was on the loose by now.

“Sorry, what’d you say?”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “We’re talking about how the killer got into the victim’s homes.”

“And how he’s getting bolder,” Nick added. “He’s attacking earlier and earlier in the evening. Not to mention that the time span between his murders is getting shorter.”

“He’s getting more confident.”

“Well, we need to stop him before he gets _too_ confident,” Emma said.

Chad scoffed. “I think it’s a little late for that, don’t ya think? He left us a fucking note.”

“I know, I know. But we can’t give up.” Emma faced the board again. “He’s not breaking in. So, how is he getting into these apartments?”

“I thought we agreed that he was being let in,” Kevin said.

“But _why_ was he being let in?” Chad inquired.

“Because the victims knew him,” Nick said in a tired voice. Emma couldn’t fault him; they had been running in circles for a while. She tilted her head as a thought came into her mind.

“Did they though?” she questioned, her mind whirring. “I mean, we can’t find any connection that the six victims knew each other.”

“What are you implying?” Chad asked.

Emma shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. That fact just didn’t sit right with me.” She stood up and approached the board, looking over the photos in turn. She turned back around. “Okay, let’s rework this. When would you willingly let somebody into your home even if you didn’t know them?”

“Never. That’s just asking for trouble.”

Emma ignored him. “So, _why_ would anyone willingly let some _stranger_ into their home?”

There were a few moments of silence before Nick said, “Because they trust them.”

“And who would you trust even if you didn’t know them?”

“The pizza delivery guy.”

“A maintenance person,” Chad quipped.

Kevin stroked his chin. “Emergency personnel. Like a—”

“A cop,” Emma finished, a wave of apprehension rolling through her.

Chad whipped his head between the two detectives. “What? Are you guys insane? You’re trying to say a police officer did this?”

Emma shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Or maybe not,” Kevin interjected. “He could be impersonating one.”

“Yeah, like the Hillside Stranglers,” Nick added excitedly, standing up. “That makes the most sense!”

Chad shook his head. “No way this guy is a cop.”

“We’re not saying he actually _is_ a cop,” Emma explained patiently. “But we need to think of all the possibilities.”

“We take oaths!” Chad fumed. “To protect people. This isn’t a cop!”

Silence followed Chad’s outburst. After a moment, Nick put a hand on his partner’s shoulder.

“Chad, you may be right, and I really hope this bastard isn’t a cop either. But Emma’s right, we can’t close the door to this possibility just because we don’t want the killer to be a cop.”

Chad clenched his jaw, but didn’t say anything.

“We all know that dirty cops are a thing,” Kevin said gently. “We wish it wasn’t. So, let’s rule this out and mo—”

“It’s not a cop!” Chad interrupted harshly. He stood up and headed towards the door. “I’m gonna go get some air.”

Nick sighed. “I’ll go make sure he’s okay.” And he left after his partner.

Emma pursed her lips. “Interesting, isn’t it?”

Kevin furrowed his brow. “What do ya mean?”

“Hendrickson just exploded at the mention that the killer could be a cop,” she explained. “He’s taking it very personally, don’t you think?”

Kevin shrugged and turned his attention to the board. “Wouldn’t you? It would be awful if this guy was an officer. I think he’s within reason to be upset.”

Emma didn’t agree, but she didn’t say anything further. She just filed it away to mull over later.

***

Alyssa knocked firmly on the door in front of her. She glanced to her left while she waited, noting the lock on the door to Emily Mullins’ apartment. The victim’s place was obviously off limits, but the neighbors wasn’t.

The door swung open to reveal a petite blonde woman, who looked to be in her forties.

“Yes?”

Alyssa gave a friendly smile. “Hi, I’m sorry to bother you,” she said quickly. “My name’s Alyssa. I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about your neighbor Emily Mullins.”

The woman glanced down the hall, as if to check if anyone else was there.

“Are you with the police?” she asked.

“No, I’m a reporter with the Times.”

The woman shrunk back a little. “I-I don’t know if I’m supposed to talk to reporters.”

“You already talked to the police about the case?”

“Yes, several times.”

“Did they say anything about not talking to the press about it?”

The woman paused, thinking back. “No, I don’t think so. Not that I can recall at least.”

Alyssa smiled. “Then you’re not breaking any laws,” she assured the woman. “Trust me, I’m not going to do something that would get you in trouble. I’m just trying to find out what happened to Emily.”

The woman, whose name was Kim, invited her in. She explained that she had been neighbors with Emily for almost three years.

“She was quiet,” Kim commented as she bustled around the kitchen while Alyssa sat at the bar. “She kept to herself. Most people do in this building.” She was pouring water into a glass, her hands shaking. She continued.

“But she was nice, ya know? Would hold the door for me when I had groceries. Would get my mail for me if I was away. She was always nice to my daughter.” She gave a soft laugh. “We could hear her sing through the walls. She had a good voice and my daughter would always say ‘Mommy, I wanna sing like her’.”

Alyssa gave a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Kim shrugged. “I didn’t really know her, ya know? I just…I can’t believe what happened. My daughter keeps asking me where she went, Emily, and why the police were here. I took her away to my parents’ right after it happened. I couldn’t stay here.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, striving to keep the sudden tears at bay.

“I’m sorry, it’s just hard. The woman who lived next door was killed. A-and I don’t feel safe. How am I supposed to keep my daughter here when something so horrible happened?” She looked to Alyssa. “Was she involved with drugs or something? Is that why she was killed?”

“I don’t know,” Alyssa told her honestly, though she doubted it; none of her research so far had led her to believe that Emily was involved with illegal substances. “I’m trying to figure it out myself.”

Kim wiped her cheeks and glanced at her watch.

“My daughter is going to be home soon. I’m sorry, but can you—”

“Of course.” Alyssa stood, knowing her cue to leave. “I just have one more question.” She pulled out the picture of Amy Westbrook, the victim from the Bronx. “Does this woman look familiar to you? Did you notice her with Emily at all?”

Kim shook her head. “No. Why? Is she a suspect?”

“No.” Alyssa tucked the photo away. “Thank you for everything. I wish you and your daughter the best.”

***

Kim had been far more accommodating than the man who lived across the hall from Amy Westbrook. After reaching out to some of Emily’s friends and not getting much in return, Alyssa made her way over to Queens.

The apartment building was not nearly as nice as Emily Mullins’, nor were the tenants. The brunette had already had too many male eyes running over her body since entering two minutes ago. She clenched her fists and let the uneasiness roll off her back; she needed to get some information.

She knocked on the door, which had seen better days. A man’s voice boomed from the inside, shouting out insults and curses.

“I don’t want nothing!” he yelled from behind the closed door.

Alyssa checked her notepad. “Mr. Paulson?”

“Who wants to know?” the voice asked, this time right behind the door.

“Alyssa. I’m a reporter with the Times.” She leaned closer to the door. “I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions pertaining to the death of your neighbor Amy Westbrook.”

The door flung open suddenly, startling Alyssa and causing her to jump back. The man before her was short and squat with graying hair and a nasty odor.

“You wanna know somethin’? I’ll tell ya somethin!” he snarled. He thrust a finger towards the door across the hall, nearly poking Alyssa’s face in the process. “To that bitch I say good riddance! She was nothing but a pain in my ass since she moved in. All she would do is yell, and sing, and throw parties! No respect! No respect at all, I tell ya!”

Alyssa composed herself and tried not to breathe through her nose. “Do you know if she was dating anyone? Did you see anyone the night she died?”

“I didn’t see nothin! And that’s all I gotta say!” He slammed the door in Alyssa’s face before she could retort.

She stood there for a moment weighing her options. She could be more investigative and try to get more out of the man, but at this point, she was fearing for her safety. God knows the old man wouldn’t give her anything else most likely. She departed down the hall, deciding to spend some time at the office organizing her notes.

***

Emma rubbed her eyes. It was close to ten at night, and she was still at the station. The others had left hours ago, but Emma stayed, running over every scenario she could think of. Still, nothing new was coming to light.

Tasha’s autopsy wasn’t completed, and Carrie hadn’t finished examining the footage from the apartment building. Besides the theory that the killer was impersonating emergency personnel, or was indeed an emergency personnel, they had nothing. The killer was killing more frequently, and was now breaking his MO; he was going after people of different races.

She rubbed her eyes again. She needed to go home. Her phone rang as she was packing up her bag.

“Hello?”

“Emma?” A timid voice said.

“Who is this?”

“It’s Alyssa Greene.” Emma’s heart fluttered. “I know this is unorthodox, but, uh…” She trailed off.

The image of Alyssa being captured by the serial killer came unbidden into the detective’s mind. “Alyssa? Is everything okay?”

“Somebody broke into my apartment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cue dramatic music.


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are mine. Hope everyone is surviving this quarantine. Stay strong, friends!

Alyssa was pacing the sidewalk in front of her apartment building clutching her phone when Emma pulled up. Emma stepped out of her car and ran over to her, her curls bouncing.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just shaken up a little, I guess.”

Emma reached out her hand to comfort her, hesitated, before continuing with the motion and touching Alyssa’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re not hurt.”

If it were any other time, the brunette would make a joke to ignore the way her skin felt hot at Emma’s touch. Now, however, she relished it. Emma squeezed her shoulder briefly before letting her hand fall away.

“What happened?” she asked as she glanced up at the giant brick building. “Do you know what they took?”

Alyssa shook her head. “No. I opened my door and there was a guy in my living room. A-and then I screamed, I think, and ran out and…now I feel stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” Emma assured her. “You don’t know what this guy could’ve had on him, a weapon or something. Do you remember what he looked like?”

Alyssa clamped her eyes shut, trying to recall the split second that she had seen the man. “Um, he was tall, and he had on a black hoodie with jeans. I couldn’t really see his hair cause his hood was up, but his eyebrows were dark.”

“Ethnicity?”

“White.”

“Okay. Can I have your keys? You can wait in my car while I take a look around.”

Alyssa frowned. “Why? No, I want to go with you.”

“It’s dangerous, Alyssa.”

“Well, how am I supposed to know if anything was stolen?” Alyssa argued. “You don’t know my apartment.”

“I can make a log of everything that’s found,” Emma told her. “You just have to come by the station tomorrow and fill out an official report. Now, go wait in my car. I’ll be out in a few minut-”

“No!” Alyssa snapped. “I’m not gonna sit on the sidelines!”

“What’re you tal—Alyssa!”

The brunette stormed past the detective and was tugging open the doors to the building.

“I didn’t call you here in an official capacity, Emma,” Alyssa growled as she climbed the stairs, Emma hot on her heels. “I called because I thought we were friends.”

Emma nearly stumbled on the steps. “Wait, you think we’re friends?” she blurted out without thinking. “I mean—that’s—I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”

“Then what did you mean?”

They had reached the second floor and Alyssa led the way to her door. Emma grabbed her wrist before she could reach it.

“Let me go in first,” Emma plead quietly. “Just in case he’s still in there.”

“What did you mean?” Alyssa repeated. “About us being friends?”

Emma swallowed. “Uh, I didn’t know that you thought of us as friends.” She slid her fingers down Alyssa’s wrist until she could clasp her hand. Her touch was soft, and Alyssa’s skin felt hot again. Could Emma feel the heat? Their eyes locked and Emma tentatively squeezed her hand. “But I would love to be…friends.”

Her gaze lingered and Alyssa had to break it off and look to the ground before she did something stupid. She cleared her throat. Well, if that wasn’t Emma saying that she felt something between them, then she didn’t know anything.

“Good,” Alyssa said weakly. “That’s good to know.”

Emma released her hand and pointed to the door near them. “Is this it?” Alyssa nodded. Emma unholstered her gun. “Okay. I’m gonna go in and clear the area. Stay out here until I tell you it’s safe, alright?”

Alyssa nodded again and Emma silently opened the door before creeping in. The light in the entry way was on, but that was it; everywhere else was dark. The apartment wasn’t very large, so the process didn’t take too long, but if felt like forever to Alyssa before Emma called out to her that it was safe.

Emma was standing at the back wall in front of an open window.

“He must’ve bolted through here when you came home. Don’t touch the sill, I can have someone come and dust for fingerprints in the morning. But you will need to fill out a report for that.”

“You mentioned that already,” Alyssa commented as she moved around the space, checking for anything that was missing. The most expensive things she owned were several pieces of jewelry that she kept in her bedroom. Everything was accounted for in that area. She came out of her room to see Emma studying a photo. The detective pointed to it.

“This your mom?” Alyssa nodded. Emma turned back to the picture. “You look like her.”

Was that a compliment?

“Thanks.”

Alyssa continued her search for missing items. After a bit, she conceded, “I don’t see anything missing right now. Most of my valuable stuff was on me, you know, my laptop and wallet and phone.”

“It’s possible that he didn’t get the chance to nick anything before you scared him away. Was the door locked when you came home?”

“Yeah.”

“Then he probably entered through the window by climbing the fire escape. Do you lock your windows?” Alyssa gave a guilty look. Emma sighed. “Lock your windows if you’re not using them, Alyssa.”

“I will now,” Alyssa promised.

Emma stepped toward her. “Is there somewhere you can stay for a couple days? A friend’s maybe? It’s very unlikely that the guy will come back, but I want you to be safe.”

The brunette fished out her phone. “My friend Kaylee. I’ll—shit. I forgot; she’s at a conference in California for the week.”

“What about your mother?”

Alyssa mulled it over. “I could, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s just that my mom lives several hours away upstate, and I really can’t afford to miss work right now.”

Silence settled over them as they both thought about potential places. Greg popped into Alyssa’s mind before she immediately dismissed it; that would be way too awkward. She had given up on friends and was looking up hotel prices when Emma spoke.

“Well, uh, what about my place?” Her voice pitched higher at the end.

Alyssa’s eyes widened. “W-what?”

“I know we don’t know each other extremely well,” Emma rushed to explain. “But you did admit that we’re friends. Plus, I have a spare room for when my grandma visits.” Alyssa couldn’t help but think about how adorable that was. “And I won’t charge you an obscene amount of money like a hotel or an Airbnb would. Just bake cookies one night.”

Alyssa pursed her lips as she thought about it. Emma’s offer was really sweet, and the most plausible. It was starting to hit the reporter that she didn’t really have anyone that she could turn to in moments like this.

“I supposed it would help us get to know each other better,” she said eventually.

Emma’s eyebrows shot up, surprised that Alyssa was considering it. “Really? I—I mean—” She schooled her features. “It would, indeed. Help us get to know each other that is.”

Alyssa nodded slowly. “Okay, um, I guess I’ll just pack a bag.”

Emma hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll be in the hall.” She took a step before spinning around. “Oh! Almost forgot.” She rummaged in her pants pocket for a moment before pulling out a pair of rubber gloves. “I thought I might need them when you called,” she explained upon seeing Alyssa’s confused face. She went over to the window and closed it before locking it with a pointed look to the other woman. Alyssa rolled her eyes.

Emma snapped off her gloves. “Okay, I’ll be outside. Try not to touch too many things if you can help it.” She exited, and Alyssa focused on packing, trying to ignore the nervous and excited flutters in her stomach.

***

It turned out that Emma lived less than ten blocks away. Her apartment was larger than Alyssa’s on account of the spare bedroom, but the rooms themselves were smaller. The place was modest, yet cozy; simple furniture littered the living room and a guitar stood in the corner. Alyssa took it all in with greedy eyes; a look into Emma’s personal life.

She pointed to the guitar. “You play?”

“Yeah, since, uh, middle school, I think.”

“You must be pretty good then.”

Emma shrugged, her cheeks red. “I know a few songs. I usually mess around on it when I need to get my thoughts in order.”

Dee Dee’s voice rang through Alyssa’s mind. Investigate.

“Such as when you have a difficult case. Like now?”

Emma smirked. “Nice try, Greene. You’re not gonna get anything out of me.”

Alyssa smirked right back. “Worth a shot.” She hefted her bag higher. “Where should I put this?”

Emma sprang into action. “Oh! Right. This way.”

The spare room wasn’t very large: only a full-size bed and a desk shoved into a corner. Only a few pictures adorned the sparse walls. A couple were of Emma and an older woman, her grandmother, Alyssa assumed. Another was Emma playing the guitar in front of a Christmas tree.

“I’ll let you get settled,” Emma said and shuffled back into the living room.

Alyssa made quick work of unpacking her clothes and toiletries. She didn’t plan to stay long, but she couldn’t deny the butterflies in her stomach at the knowledge that she was in Emma Nolan’s apartment.

***

Alyssa’s cheeks were flushed, her head was fuzzy and her lips were loose. Maybe pouring herself that third glass of wine was not the best idea, especially since her crush was lounging in the chair across from her, seemingly sober.

“So, what’s the deal with your parents?” Alyssa inquired, her words slightly slurred.

Emma’s eyebrow quirked up. “I’m sorry?”

“Your parents. I haven’t seen a single picture of them in here.” She waved her hand around the room.

“Oh, uh, my parents and I don’t see eye to eye. We don’t speak anymore.”

Guilt crashed over Alyssa, but she didn’t apologize. Even in her inebriated state, she knew that Emma wasn’t looking for pity. She fell back to her reporter instincts.

“What happened?”

Emma fiddled with her wine glass as she answered, “They didn’t like the fact that I wanna date women instead of men.”

Alyssa’s stomach flipped at the confirmation of Emma’s sexual orientation. She had always assumed the detective leaned to the lady-loving side, what with her continuous flirting, but it was nice to hear it out loud.

“So, you are gay,” Alyssa said with a teasing lilt, hoping to make Emma feel more comfortable.

Emma smirked. “If you thought I was anything other, then I apologize.”

“Hmm, no, I thought you were gay, but I couldn’t just go off my assumption. I’m a reporter; assuming things is a death sentence.”

“And you’re gay too, right?” Emma blurted out, her desire to know overriding her tact. “I’m not just imagining things?”

The brunette bit her lip and smiled coyly. “And what exactly are you imagining?”

Emma’s breath caught and she knew that she was blushing, but she controlled herself enough to shoot back, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Alyssa laughed, clear and bright. Emma grinned, loving that she could make Alyssa laugh. Her smile faltered, though, as Alyssa stood up and sauntered over to the couch, leaning over Emma. The detective gulped at their proximity.

Alyssa leaned down, placing both hands on the back of the couch to steady herself. Emma stopped breathing; she could the heat rolling off Alyssa’s body. Her eyes were half closed already, but the brunette bypassed her lips and instead whispered hotly into her ear: “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

She pulled back, her infuriating smirk in place. “And with that, I’m gonna go to bed. Let you think things over.” She winked and stepped away.

Emma stood abruptly, sputtering. “I uh-that’s-you know--”

“Thank you for letting me stay here, Emma,” Alyssa said sincerely from the doorway to her room. “Goodnight.”

“R-right, yeah. Goodnight.”

The door closed and Emma flopped back on to the couch.

Alyssa staying here was going to be the death of her.

***

The blare of Alyssa’s alarm jolted her awake the next morning. The sun was peering in from the window, lighting the room. For a terrifying second, Alyssa didn’t remember where she was. And then she remembered everything.

Everything.

She groaned and covered her face. How humiliating; she had essentially let it slip to Emma how she felt. Sure, they had this playful banter whenever they saw each other, but this was different. God, how was she going to face Emma again?

However, if her memory was right, Emma was not repulsed by the idea. In fact, she seemed open to it. Alyssa’s eyes darted around the room as her mind spun. Her phone chirped from the bedside table to show a text from Emma.

_Good morning! When you’re up for it, can you stop by the station? There’s some paperwork you have to fill out concerning the break in. Just let the officer at the front desk know what happened. Until then, make yourself at home!_

Okay, so she wasn’t asking Alyssa to leave. This was good.

The brunette stared at the ceiling for a few minutes as she organized her thoughts. Everything was going to be fine. Emma didn’t hate her. She was confident that the man who broke into her apartment was going to be found. And it was Saturday, so she didn’t have to go into work. She could do something to thank Emma. Maybe she could bake those cookies that she promised.

Alyssa smiled as she rolled out of bed.

***

Kevin strolled out of the elevator, humming a happy tune, and stopped dead in his tracks.

Emma was already at her desk. Emma got to work before him? That never happened!

“You must be sick,” he said as way of greeting as he made his way over to his own desk, depositing his messenger bag.

Emma tore her gaze away from the papers in front of her. “What’re you talking about?”

“You never beat me to work.” He took note of her tired eyes. “What’s with the turn of events?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “What? I can’t show up to work early for once?” she hissed.

Kevin held his hands up. “Whoa, okay I get it: don’t bother early morning Emma.”

He sat down and switched on his computer. Emma sighed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. Al…I mean, a friend of mine had her apartment broken into and I’m trying to look into it.”

“Does Hawkins know that you’re taking on another case besides the serial killer?”

“What do you think?”

Kevin sucked in between his teeth. “He’s gonna kill you himself if he finds out.”

“Then how about we agree to not let him find out?” She shot a meaningful glance to her partner.

Kevin mimed zipping his lips. “He won’t hear it from me. Do you want some help with it?”

“Not right now. I have crime scene techs down at the apartment; they should be back soon. I’m hoping they’ll find a fingerprint or something. Thanks though.”

“Don’t mention it.” Kevin pulled out files from his bag. “So, has anything changed with our killer since the ten hours I’ve been here last?”

It hadn’t, and Emma was hitting her limit. Nevertheless, the two got to work.

A couple hours later, they were interrupted.

“Detective Nolan?”

Emma turned to see Officer Roland beside her desk. “What is it?”

“I was told to let you know that the report is all filled out by Ms. Greene.”

“Great, thanks Roland.” Emma asked, placing the new stack of papers on her desk, not noticing how Kevin had perked up across from her.

“Greene?” he muttered. He leaned over slightly and caught sight of the woman’s name upside down on the report Roland has just dropped off. “Al…Alyssa Greene…” His eyes widened in realization and he bolted back into his chair. “Shit!”

Emma snapped her head up. “What?”

“Alyssa Greene!” Kevin hissed. “You’re having Alyssa Greene stay at your apartment? Are you insane?!”

Emma blushed slightly. “Who said anything about Alyssa Greene?”

Kevin gave her a dry look. “I can see her name on that report, Emma.”

Emma glanced down at the papers, seeing how the brunette’s name was clearly visible. “Oh.”

“What’re you thinking? She could be using you!” he said harshly.

Emma flinched back; out of all the things she thought Kevin would say, mostly him poking fun at her about the whole situation, she never thought he would be angry. “What’re you talking about?”

“She’s a reporter, Em. A crime reporter! How do you know that she isn’t making the whole thing up just to get to you and figure out details about the serial killer case?”

The words stung. “She wouldn’t do that.”

“Are you sure about that?”

It made Emma feel sick that she didn’t.


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Are you sure about that?" is Emma remembering Kevin's words from earlier. All mistakes are mine. Hope you all are staying safe.

“Something happened.”

_“Is this a good something or a bad something?”_ Kaylee asked from the other end of the call.

Alyssa pursed her lips. “It’s a…well, both I guess.”

_“Explain.”_

“So, my apartment got broken into an--”

_“Wait, what?! Are you okay? What happened?”_

“Kaylee, calm down! I’m fine.” Alyssa shifted the phone to her other hand. “Some guy broke in, and I wasn’t home so I’m okay. He didn’t take anything as far as I can tell.”

_“And that’s the good part?”_

“Uh, yes and no.”

_“Well, what’s the good part?”_

Alyssa bit her lip. “I’m not staying at my apartment right now; I’m staying at Emma’s.”

There was silence, and then _, “Emma? Emma **Nolan**? **Detective** Emma Nolan? The same woman you’ve been drooling over for months?”_

“I have not been drooling!”

_“Oh, for God’s sake, just admit that you like her, Alyssa! It’s obvious!”_

Alyssa huffed out a breath. “Fine. I like her, okay?”

“ _WHOO_!”

“Shut up, Kaylee.”

_“Hey, don’t be mean just because you have a crush.”_ Kaylee giggled _. “So, when are you going to make a move?”_

“It’s not a move,” Alyssa said. “But I am at the grocery store. Figured I could make dinner as a way of saying thanks.”

_“Oooh, a sexy dinner?”_ Kaylee teased.

Alyssa rolled her eyes. “What the hell is a sexy din-- you know what, never mind. I’m not expecting anything, Kaylee. I just really appreciate what Emma’s doing.”

_“Mmhmm. But would you say no if the night did go in that direction?”_

“Alright, I have to go,” Alyssa said loudly. “Bye Kaylee! Enjoy California!”

She hung up before Kaylee could respond and looked down at her list. Only a few more ingredients and she’d be set.

***

_“Are you sure about that?”_

Kevin’s words rang in Emma’s mind on repeat for the whole day, wavering her trust in the brunette each time. They were there during the mid-morning briefing by Captain Hawkins. They were there when she eventually snuck out of the station to go to Alyssa’s apartment. They were there when the crime scene techs found some fingerprints on the window, just as Emma suspected, and they were there when the detective dropped off the evidence to Marcus and his team.

They were there when she came home to see Alyssa cooking at the stove.

“Hey!” the brunette greeted brightly. “Dinner’s almost done, I just need a few more minutes. Would you like a glass of wine?”

Emma stared at the stove dumbfounded, the delicious scent of whatever Alyssa was cooking making her mouth water. “What is this?”

Alyssa quirked an eyebrow. “Uh, it’s dinner. It’s the least I can do since you’re letting me stay here. And I bought some cookies. I’ll bake them later.”

“Cookies?”

“Yeah. You told me I could repay you by baking cookies, remember? But I thought dinner wouldn’t hurt either.” She regarded Emma, who was looking at the pan with a furrowed brow. “Are you okay?”

Emma straightened up. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for cooking dinner, that was nice.” She went over to deposit her jacket and messenger bag on the couch.

“Don’t mention it. So, was there any headway on the case?”

Emma tensed from where she was unholstering her gun in her bedroom.

_“Are you sure about that?”_

Was Alyssa really trying to get details out of her? Was Kevin right?

She cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the sudden lump that had formed. “You know I can’t talk about ongoing investigations, Alyssa.”

The reporter frowned. “Well, I thought this was different since it was my apartment. Did a crime scene team get out there?”

Oh.

“Uh, yeah,” Emma said easily as she came back into the living room. “They found some fingerprints on the window sill, just like I said. The lab is running them now. We should know soon if there's a hit.”

“That’s great,” Alyssa said smiling. “Thanks so much for doing all this, I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it.” Emma stepped into the kitchen, her uneasiness wafting away. Alyssa was only wanting to know about the break in. “So, you said something about dinner?”

“I did. Now, get some plates and sit at the table, missy.”

Emma smirked. “Hmm, I think I like it when you boss me around.” She chuckled when she saw the blush that graced Alyssa’s cheeks and grabbed some plates and utensils.

Alyssa filled both of their plates with some pasta, and Emma scrutinized it for a bit. “What exactly is this?”

"It's food."

"Yes, I gathered. But what's in it?"

Alyssa pursed her lips. "I probably should've asked this earlier, but do you have any food allergies?"

"Nooo." Emma elongated the word, still trying to figure out what she was about to ingest.

“Well, then it's a secret,” Alyssa teased. “Just try it.”

Emma did. Flavor exploded in her mouth and she groaned.

“Oh, my God. This is so good!” She inhaled another forkful, not even caring that she was burning her tongue. “You’re hired to be my personal chef.”

Alyssa chuckled from across the table. “I’m glad you like it, though I’m hardly a chef.”

“Either way, you’re a way better cook than me. I usually rely on takeout.”

“Yes, your empty fridge does support that statement.” Alyssa smirked.

Emma glared at her with her mouth full. She swallowed before saying, “Hey, I work long hours, and the café near the station is amazing.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Alyssa twirled some pasta around her fork. “Speaking of your work, how did you get into it?”

_“Are you sure about that?”_

Kevin’s words came roaring back into Emma’s mind. She pushed around her food. “It’s uh, boring really. Always wanted to be a cop. Applied to the academy out here right after I graduated high school. The rest is history.”

“Did you always want to be a detective?” Emma nodded. “Did you used to watch all those crime shows like _NCIS_ and _Law & Order_? What’s the craziest case you’ve ever been on?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” Emma commented, frowning.

“I’m a reporter, my job is to ask questions,” Alyssa answered simply.

_“Are you sure about that?”_

Emma took a sip of her drink, trying to shake the words out of her head. It was only when she put the glass down that she realized it was wine. Why was Alyssa serving her wine? Was she trying to get Emma drunk?

“Are you okay?” Emma looked up to see Alyssa watching her. “You’re staring at that glass as if it holds life’s answers.”

Emma cleared her throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just don’t remember pouring this.”

“Oh, my fault. I thought you wanted some,” Alyssa said. “You looked kind of frazzled when you came home. I thought the wine would help take some edge off of what I’m sure is a difficult case.”

“Stop assuming things about the case!” Emma snapped suddenly. Alyssa froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. “What are you even doing here?”

“You offered for me to stay here,” Alyssa said slowly once she recovered from Emma’s abrupt change in mood.

“No, not that! What are you doing here, in this moment? I mean, what are your intentions?”

“My intentions? Emma, I don’t--”

“Why did you call me?”

“What?” Alyssa asked, mind reeling as she tried to keep up with the topic changes.

Emma straightened up, putting herself in interrogation mode. “Why did you call me the night your place got broken into? Why not the police?”

“You are the police!” Alyssa said. “And you gave me your number and told me to call you if I needed help.” Emma shook her head and pushed back from the table. Alyssa barreled on. “You were the first person I thought of.”

Emma barked out a humorless laugh. “So, it has nothing to do with the fact that I’m leading an investigation and you need a story?”

Alyssa gasped and bolted up, abandoning her dinner. “Is that what you think of me?” She stepped closer to the detective, fire in her eyes. “You think I would use you to write a story?”

Emma stared her down. “Wouldn’t you?”

Alyssa flinched. “The fact that you think that just proves to me that we’re not on the same page.”

Emma blinked. “Why did you call me?”

“I already told you!” Alyssa snapped. “You were the first person I thought of. I think about you quite a bit and it’s hardly ever in a professional sense. But maybe I should stop, huh?”

She brushed past Emma and into the spare room. Emma padded over to see Alyssa shoving clothes into her duffel.

“What’re you doing?”

“Leaving,” Alyssa replied shortly. “Since, according to you, all I want out of this is to write a story.”

“Wait, Alyssa, that’s not w--”

Alyssa whirled around to her. “Did you ever stop and think that maybe I just wanted to get to know you?” she asked. “That I wanted our relationship to be more than just crimes and murders a-and articles?”

Emma just stared at her. Alyssa stepped closer.

“Emma, I _like_ you. Has that not been obvious?” The brunette huffed out a tired laugh. “What else do I have to do to--”

Emma grasped her cheeks and pulled her into a kiss. 

Alyssa’s lips were soft, impossibly so, and Emma’s head spun. She had wanted this for so long, but never believed that it would happen. But it was! It was, and Emma swore that her heart had never pounded so hard. It was indescribable, and she never wanted to stop—

Alyssa shoved her away.

Emma ripped her eyes open. “Wh--”

“What the fuck, Emma?” Alyssa spat. “You can’t just yank a girl into a kiss like that!”

Emma blinked several times. “But I thought…you were just saying that you like me!”

“Yes, but our first kiss can’t be when I’m mad at you!”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s—I…you--” Alyssa sputtered. She closed her eyes for a moment, composing herself. When she looked at Emma again, her eyes were intense. “You like me.”

It wasn’t a question, but Emma answered anyway.

“Yes, I do.” She smirked. “Was me kissing you not obvious enough?”

Alyssa pulled her in. The last kiss was soft; this was anything but. She kissed Emma hard, immediately trying to pry open the other woman’s lips with her tongue, not that Emma needed much convincing. They kissed heatedly, breathy noises escaping between the clash of tongues and teeth. Emma trailed her hands down Alyssa’s back to grasp her hips, gently pushing her back.

Alyssa didn’t even realize that she was being led somewhere until her legs hit the bed. Once she did, though, she redirected her hands to softly push at Emma’s chest.

“Wait,” she breathed out. “Wait.” Emma immediately stepped away, an apology tumbling from her lips. “No, it’s fine. A little too fine.”

“What is it?”

“It’s just…I’ve never…” Emma went to step back but Alyssa fisted her hands into her button down, holding her there. “There’s nothing wrong. I’ve just never…done this with someone that I don’t really know.”

“Oh.” Emma cleared her throat. “Well, we don’t have to do anything. We can just talk if you want.”

“But I do wanna do it,” Alyssa insisted.

Emma swallowed. “Okay, um, well we may not know everything about each other, but I’m sure we know more than you think.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Emma grabbed the brunette’s hands and laced their fingers together. “I know that you’re Alyssa Greene, crime reporter for the New York Times and that you’re friends with Kaylee. I know that you’re close with your mother, but not your father. I’m guessing he’s out of the picture, but I don’t believe he died.”

Alyssa stiffened. “What makes you say that?”

“There weren’t any pictures of him in your apartment. If he died, you would still have photos. You’d want to remember him.”

Alyssa swallowed past the lump in her throat. “That’s very perceptive, Detective. He left my mom and me when I was eleven. He…didn’t want to be part of the family anymore.”

“Parents suck sometimes, don’t they?”

“They do,” Alyssa agreed. “You mentioned that yours don’t talk to you.”

“They kicked me out when I was sixteen,” Emma explained bluntly. “Said that I wasn’t their daughter because I was gay. My grandma took me in and I moved to New York the second I graduated. I needed to get the hell out of there.” She paused. “I don’t think my parents even know that I’m a cop.”

“It’s their loss,” Alyssa murmured. She leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. “Emma? Can we stop talking now?”

Emma smirked. “Sure. What would you like to do instead?”

Alyssa kissed her in lieu of answering, spinning around so that Emma toppled onto the bed. Alyssa landed on top of her, their lips never parting, and her hands went to work on the buttons on Emma’s shirt. Emma broke the kiss.

“Lys, are you sure?” she breathed.

“Surer than anything,” Alyssa assured, her heart beating fast. She latched onto Emma’s neck and sucked hard. Emma moaned. Alyssa’s lips felt marvelous as they tugged at her skin, but—

“Please don’t leave a mark.” Alyssa paused in her ministrations. “I-it’s not that I don’t absolutely love what you’re doing,” Emma continued. “But I’d never hear the end of it at work.”

Alyssa brought her head up to catch the detective’s gaze. “Speaking from experience, Nolan?”

“I plead the fifth.”

Alyssa dove back into her neck with a growl. “Fine. I’ll let you stay professional.” She hummed, and snaked a hand down Emma’s torso. “Does that mean I can’t leave them on other places of your body?”

Emma swallowed. “I-I’m sure that would be fine.”

“Good.”

Alyssa went back to her neck again, trailing her tongue down her throat as she finally finished with Emma’s buttons. She wrenched open Emma’s shirt, exposing her black tank top underneath. Alyssa immediately redirected her mouth to Emma’s chest, lavishing the visible skin. Emma moaned again and threaded her fingers through Alyssa’s hair. Alyssa snaked her hands under the hem of Emma’s tank top, feeling bare skin as the traveled upwards. She paused right below Emma’s bra, but before she could even ask, Emma was giving her permission.

Alyssa immediately moved her hands up to cover the bra-clad breasts. Emma shucked off her button down before helping Alyssa remove her tank top. More of the detective’s chest was revealed and the reporter wasted no time in kissing and nipping at the skin. She brought her thigh up to press against Emma’s center while her fingers clutched at Emma’s hips. Emma let out a loud groan and began to paw at Alyssa’s shirt.

“Why do you still have so many clothes on?” she panted out.

Alyssa chuckled. “Patience, babe.” The term made Emma’s stomach flip. Alyssa sucked particularly hard, ensuring that a mark would appear on the swell of Emma’s breast. “There’s some things I wanna do first.”

Emma reached for the hem of Alyssa’s top. “That’s not fair.”

Alyssa rolled her eyes and sat up so that she was straddling the other woman. She slid off her shirt and tossed it on the floor, leaving her in her bra. “Better?”

Emma’s eyes widened as she took in the delectable skin. “Much.”

Alyssa smirked and went to lean back into Emma’s chest, but Emma cupped her face and drew her into a blistering kiss. Alyssa paused in surprise and Emma took advantage, rolling them so that Alyssa was pinned beneath her.

“Hey!” Alyssa yelped. “No, I was going first.”

Emma gave her a wolfish grin. “Patience, babe.”

The brunette wanted to protest more, but Emma kissed her again, making her brain short circuit, and she let her brain shut down as Emma’s hands traveled over her body.

***

Emma trailed her fingers along Alyssa’s shoulder, feeling the smooth skin. The brunette had dozed off, nuzzled into Emma’s side, but Emma couldn’t sleep. She had so many thoughts running through her head. First and foremost: what had transpired between her and Alyssa tonight. Having sex with Alyssa was different, better than anything Emma had experienced before. She didn’t want to call it love; it was way too soon for that, but she couldn’t deny that it may be heading in that direction.

Alyssa’s breath ghosted across Emma’s chest as different thoughts took over: the serial killer. They were close to cracking it; Emma could feel it. They just needed to—

“I can hear you thinking,” Alyssa mumbled sleepily. Emma jumped, glancing down to see Alyssa’s eyes still closed.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Alyssa murmured. She shifted closer and placed a gentle kiss on Emma’s chest before looking up. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Emma bit her lip, debating on venting a little to Alyssa without giving anything away.

“Do you regret it?”

Emma furrowed her brow at the sudden question. “Huh?”

“Sleeping with me,” Alyssa clarified. “Do you regret it?”

“What? No! Absolutely not.” Emma pulled the brunette closer so that she rolled on top of her. She brushed dark curls out of Alyssa’s eyes. “That was incredible. Wouldn’t change a thing.”

Alyssa scrunched up her nose. “Even when I accidentally headbutted you?”

Emma chuckled. “Even then.” She swiped her tongue over the now healed cut on her lips. “No, I’m just thinking about this case.”

“The serial killer.” It wasn’t a question, but Emma neither confirmed nor denied.

“It’s frustrating,” Emma admitted after a few minutes. “Cases are most of the time. It just always feels like I’m three steps behind. And whenever I think I’m on to something, it turns out to be nothing. I don’t like it when I can’t figure something out.” She paused. “This is all off the record, too, ya know.”

“Fine. You’ll figure it out,” Alyssa said and dropped another kiss to her sternum. “I know you will.”

The words were muffled against Emma’s skin, and her breath hitched as Alyssa sucked and nipped and got closer and closer to her nipple.

“Y-you sure do have a l-lot of faith in me,” Emma sputtered.

“Hmm, you’re good at what you do.”

Alyssa nipped her breast again before enveloping Emma’s nipple into her warm mouth. Emma hissed and tangled her hands in Alyssa’s hair.

“Are you trying to distract me?”

Alyssa shot her a grin. “Possibly. Is it working?”

Emma’s breath stuttered as she felt one of Alyssa’s hands trail down her front before reaching its destination between Emma’s thighs. “Maybe.”


	6. VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are mine.

* * *

Luck seemed to be on Emma’s side. Sunday was easily one of the best days of her life as she and Alyssa spent the day together talking, cuddling, and making love. It was amazing. She went into work on Monday morning with a smile on her face and a spring in her step.

“Good morning, everyone!” she greeted to the bullpen cheerfully as she stepped off the elevator. She reached her desk and regarded her partner. “How was your weekend, buddy?”

Kevin peered at her curiously. “Uh, my weekend was fine. I’m guessing yours was too, if your happy attitude is any indication.”

“My weekend was indeed great!” She plopped down into her seat and leaned forward. “Do you know why?”

“Well, I know what makes _me_ that happy, but I’ll play along. Why?”

“Because you were wrong.”

Kevin raised his eyebrows. “I was wrong? About what?”

“Alyssa,” Emma answered with a smile. “She isn’t using me; she actually wants to be with me.”

Kevin held up his hands in defense. “Hey, I was just looking out for you. Reporters are almost as bad as lawyers. Remember during our orientation when they told us to stay away from them?”

“Alyssa isn’t like that, though. She doesn’t stoop to taking advantage of people to get information. She’s a genuine person.”

Kevin shrugged. “I still don’t completely trust her, but I’ll let it go.” He caught his partner’s eyes. “Don’t mess it up, Emma.”

“Not planning on it,” she declared with a small smile.

Kevin echoed it before his phone rang. “Detective Shields.” Emma busied herself with booting her computer up. “Great!” he exclaimed suddenly, startling his partner. “We’ll be down in a few minutes.” He hung up. “The overnight team found footage of a suspicious person entering Tasha’s apartment building the night of her murder.”

“Awesome,” Emma beamed. “Let’s go check it out.”

Kevin smirked at her as they made their way to the elevator. “So, besides the fact that I apparently was wrong about Alyssa, I’m guessing that her staying with you is why you’re so jolly. Am I right?”

“Perhaps,” Emma replied with a sly grin.

They entered the dark room a few minutes later. Carrie, the lead analyst, was sitting in front of several monitors, each displaying a different image.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Nick and Chad?” Emma asked as they stepped closer to the computers.

Kevin shook his head. “They’re staying in Queens. I’ll call Nick after and catch him up.” He turned to Carrie. “Show us your magic.”

“It was technically Sheldon, one of the night shift analysts, who found it,” Carrie admitted as she fast forwarded the tape. “This is the camera right outside the building entrance on the night Tasha was killed.”

Emma glanced at the timestamp. It was within the hour that Trent had narrowed down Tasha’s death, between nine and ten o’clock that night.

“Here,” Carrie said as she let the footage play.

The screen showed several pedestrians walking along the sidewalk, but it was obvious which person Carrie was wanting them to focus on. The subject was taller, most likely male, and was wearing a dark zip up with a hood on. He had his head down, keeping his face in shadow. He walked until he was right outside the door, then he pressed the buzzer that must’ve been linked to Tasha’s apartment. A few seconds later, the door unlocked and the man went through.

“We can follow him to the elevator, but there’s no camera in the elevator itself,” Carrie said as the three of them watched the man stroll through the lobby and into the elevator. The lobby, eerily, was empty.

“Is there footage of him leaving?” Emma questioned.

“Only a little,” Carrie said as the footage switched to a different camera. “There’s only a single camera in the halls and they’re at the elevator.” The camera primarily focused on the elevator itself, but a portion of the apartment doors opposite the elevator could be seen. “So, we see him leave the elevator and presumably head towards Tasha’s apartment. Nothing happens for fourteen minutes after that.” She sped up the tape. “Then we see him bypass the elevator and disappear out of frame.”

“He took the stairs out,” Emma guessed as they watched the scene unfold on the monitor.

“Can you go back?” Kevin asked.

Carrie clicked her mouse and began to rewound the tape frame by frame. “To where?”

“Uh, little bit more…there! Freeze!” He thrust his finger toward the monitor which was displaying the suspect about to pass the elevator, his hood still raised. “At the top of the screen, those are shoes! There was a person in the hall when he passed by. We have a witness!”

Emma’s eyes lit up and she leaned closer to the computer. “Where were they coming from?”

Carrie clicked a few times and the tape rewound until they could see part of the witness leaving from one of the doors across from the elevator just as the suspect was passing them.

“They could’ve seen him!” Kevin exclaimed excitedly.

“Do any of the neighbors’ statements mention this?” Emma asked.

“I don’t think so, but I’ll double check,” Kevin said. “If not, we have to go talk to them.”

“I’m gonna go through the footage some more,” Carrie said. “See if there was anything we missed.”

“We’d appreciate that,” Kevin said.

“Is there any way we can estimate his height from this footage?” Emma asked.

“Sheldon already did it,” Carrie answered. “Rough guestimate is between 5’9” and 6’0.”

Emma grinned. “You guys are life savers, Carrie.”

Carrie smirked. “We know.”

“He must’ve stalked her,” Emma posed as she and Kevin made their way back to the bullpen. “He knew to keep his head down. He knew the cameras were there.”

“I can request footage from a week back,” Kevin suggested. “See if he shows up, hopefully without the hood, but it’ll take a bit to get that footage I’m sure.”

“Let’s start by figuring out who the witness is,” Emma said. “That’s our number one priority. And we should talk to the captain. We might need to do a press release soon so that people know this guy is targeting single women, and that he’s possibly impersonating some type of first responder.”

“Do you think his jacket was covering some type of uniform?” Kevin asked as they reached their desks. “And that he took it off before reaching Tasha’s door?”

“Possibly.” Emma furrowed her brow. “Which means that he must’ve known that the camera wouldn’t catch him doing that. He’s really doing his research on these victims.”

She glanced down to her desk and picked up a note.

“What’s that?” Kevin asked.

“It’s from Marcus. It’s the name of the guy whose fingerprints were in Alyssa’s apartment.”

“That was a quick match.”

“He must have a record.” She set the note on top of some other papers and searched his name.

Adam Daniel Burke did indeed have a record. Almost immediately, Emma’s computer loaded a page with at least a dozen misdemeanors. She scanned them. Most of them were petty theft, but there was a time he was caught trying to steal a car. Emma relayed the information to her partner.

“I know this is a long shot,” Kevin began. “but do you think there’s any way this Burke guy could be the serial killer?”

The idea that the killer could’ve been in Alyssa’s apartment made Emma shiver. “No. It doesn’t look like he’s committed any felonies, thank God.” She scrolled through and scribbled on a sticky note before standing up. “I have his address. I’m gonna bring him in.”

Kevin frowned. “I thought we were looking for the witness?”

“We are. I’m just going to see if Adam is home and bring him in. I’ll question him later,” she assured him.

Kevin clenched his jaw. “Emma, you’re supposed to put this serial killer case first. You just said talking to this witness is the number one priority!”

“I am and it is,” she insisted firmly. “But I can’t hand over this burglary case without the captain finding out. This is an open and shut case. Just have my back and give me an hour.” Kevin still looked upset, so Emma promised, “I’ll bring back you a sandwich from that bodega you like.”

The detective rolled his eyes. “Fine, just go get it done already.”

Emma pushed down the guilt as it slithered through her.

***

Alyssa had just booted up her computer when Kaylee all but sprinted into her office.

“Greene!” she started. “Please tell me something actually happened between you and Detective Nolan.”

Alyssa rolled her eyes at her friend’s one-track mind. “Hi, Kaylee, it’s nice to see you. How was California?”

“You would know if you called me back, bitch.”

“Yes, thank you for the 17 voicemails. I told you we would talk Monday.”

“Did I go through a wormhole on my flight home and wind up in some alternate universe?” Kaylee questioned sarcastically. “It _is_ Monday! So, spill!”

“Kaylee, I don’t think this is the best time.”

“God, Alyssa.” Kaylee huffed impatiently. “Just nod your head if you and Nolan finally gave into all that fucking tension.” Alyssa flushed at Kaylee’s words but she gave a quick nod. Kaylee grinned. “My bitch!”

“Kaylee! Keep it down!” the reporter chastised, but she couldn’t help but smile too as her friend wrapped her in a tight hug. The two women stayed that way until a voice called from the doorway.

“Alyssa?”

Alyssa looked over Kaylee’s shoulder. “Hi, Greg.”

Kaylee stepped away from Alyssa, beaming. “Greg! How’s it going, buddy?”

Both Alyssa and Greg stared at her.

“Uh, I’m good,” Greg said after a moment. “How’re you?”

“Just peachy.” She smoothed out her pants. “Okay, those financial reports aren’t going to write themselves.” She pointed at Alyssa. “You and I are talking later.”

“Kinda figured,” Alyssa muttered, still smiling.

Kaylee swept from the office and Greg stared after her. “That was…odd. Is she sick?”

Alyssa giggled. “No, she’s just happy today. Was there something you needed?”

“Oh, yeah, Dee Dee wants to see you.” Alyssa nodded. Not even seeing her boss could wipe the smile off her face. Greg took it as encouragement. “You’re happy today too. So, would you want to get dinner on Friday?”

“I’m gay.”

Greg blanched. “I…um…sorry?”

The brunette’s smile turned apologetic. “I didn’t mean to just blurt it out like that. I mean, I meant to say it, but in a more tactful way.” She paused. “So, yeah. I’m gay. Have been my whole life. I would like to get dinner with you, but it would only be as friends, and I have a feeling you want something more.” Greg nodded dumbly. “Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Greg rushed out, waving his hand placatingly. “I’m sorry that I kept bothering you about, uh, dinner. I didn’t know.”

Alyssa waved away his apology. “I was wanting to keep it quiet. But I just don’t care anymore.” And she didn’t. Hell, she was half tempted to race up to the roof and shout I from the top of her lungs.

Greg nodded in understanding. “Right. Well, I’ll just let you get back to work.” He raised his fist awkwardly. “Gay rights.”

Alyssa’s laughter followed him out of the office. She straightened some papers on her desk before leaving too. Time to go to the lion’s den.

Dee Dee barely spared Alyssa a glance when she entered.

“Alyssa,” Dee Dee said without looking up from her desk. “Do you have an update on the serial killer story?”

“Another potential victim was killed a few days ago here in Manhattan. Her name was Tasha Evans. She…” Alyssa trailed off.

Dee Dee finally met her eyes. “She what?”

“She was different than the other victims.”

“How so?”

“She wasn’t white.”

Dee Dee leaned back in her chair, clasping her hands together in front of her. “So, the killer doesn’t have a specific type and he’s skipping through the boroughs. Have you come across a connection between any of the victims?”

Alyssa sighed. “No. I’ve spoken with some friends and neighbors of some of the victims, showed them pictures of other victims. No luck, though.”

“What about Tasha? Have you sniffed around?”

Alyssa frowned at her boss’ choice of words; she was not a dog. “I didn’t get a chance to yet. I’m going back to the apartment building later this morning. Hopefully, some tenants will talk to me.”

Dee Dee stared at her, scrutinizing her. Alyssa swallowed, feeling her elatedness at being with Emma slip away for the first time. Was Dee Dee going to kick her off the story?

After what felt like hours, Dee Dee said, “Okay. Good work, Greene.” She turned her attention back to her computer. “I imagine the police are going to give a press release soon. I want you there.”

Alyssa released the breath she had been holding, smiling. “Of course, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am.”

“Right. Sorry.”

A beat passed. Dee Dee narrowed her eyes at her. “What’re you still doing here? Get out.”

***

Emma returned to the station just over an hour later, sandwich in hand. She tossed the food on Kevin’s desk, who in turn, eyed it curiously. He sniffed it and ripped the paper off before taking a large bite. Emma grinned; Kevin had forgiven her for her errand.

“How’d it go?” he asked with a full mouth.

Emma giggled at his enthusiastic eating. “Easy. We didn’t even have to do a formal interrogation. I asked where he was the night of the break in and he promptly defended that he hadn’t taken anything.”

Kevin cocked his head. “He didn’t steal anything?”

“He didn’t. But he broke and entered, and forgot that that was still a crime. So, we slapped him with a fine and told him we’d be watching. Officer Sanchez is having him fill out the paperwork.”

“Alyssa can go back to her apartment then,” Kevin said carefully.

Emma’s stomach dropped. “Yeah,” she agreed after a moment. “I suppose she can.”

Kevin smirked. “Aww, do you want your new bed buddy to stay? Have you caught feelings?”

“Shut up.” The man chuckled. “Anything new here? Did you find out about the witness?”

“Yep, Roland wrote down that the tenant wasn’t home/refused to come to the door during the original sweep,” Kevin explained as he handed over a file to Emma. She quickly scanned it before looking back to her partner. “According to the landlord, her name’s Agatha Brown. She’s lived there alone for six years after her husband died.”

Emma nodded. “Let’s go chat with the captain about a press release and then we can head over to talk to Mrs. Brown.”

***

Emma surveyed the hall, mentally retracing the suspect’s tracks from the security footage as she and Kevin stepped off the elevator. Kevin strolled over to apartment 307. Emma made note that it was only two doors down from Tasha’s own unit. Surely, the tenant would have heard something the night of Tasha’s murder.

Kevin knocked on the door. There was nothing for a moment, but then the detectives heard some light shuffling from beyond the door, and a frail elderly woman pulled open the door a sliver.

“Are you Agatha Brown?” Kevin asked gently.

“Who are you?” the old woman croaked, not answering Kevin’s question.

“I’m Detective Shields and this is Detective Nolan.” Emma gave a thin smile as the two of them produced their badges. “Are you Agatha?” The woman nodded. “We’re working on the case involving the death of one of your neighbors. You weren’t available for out initial statements. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?”

Agatha darted her beady eyes up and down the hall. “Is it just you two?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Agatha looked them both up and down before slowly opening the door more and hobbling back into her apartment. Kevin and Emma followed, eyeing the place. It reminded Emma of her grandmother’s house: cozy and warm, with trinkets that only a grandmother could have. Agatha sat in a well-worn rocking chair and gestured to the sofa against the wall.

“Thank you for talking to us, Mrs. Brown,” Emma said as she and Kevin perched on the sofa, Kevin pulling out a small notebook. “As you may have heard, one of your neighbors, Tasha Evans, was killed a few nights ago in her apartment.”

Agatha sucked in a breath. She closed her eyes for a moment. They were filled with tears when she opened them. “I did hear,” she acknowledged quietly. “But I was praying that it wasn’t true. That she had simply gone somewhere else for a few nights.”

“Unfortunately, it is true,” Emma confirmed somberly.

Agatha squeezed her eyes shut again and muttered imperceptibly under her breath. Emma averted her gaze as the old woman finished her prayer. Agatha cleared her throat when she was done.

“What happened?”

“She was murdered,” Kevin answered evenly.

The woman gasped and covered her mouth with her wrinkled hand. “Wh-what? Murdered? Here? That can’t be possible.”

Kevin shifted on the sofa, leaning a little closer to Agatha. “Can you tell me what you were doing on Thursday night? Were you with someone, some family perhaps?””

Agatha eyed him warily. “I…why’re you asking me that?”

“You’re not a suspect,” Kevin assured her gently. “We’re asking all the neighbors these questions. We’re just covering our bases.”

“I was here,” Agatha confessed. “I hardly leave the apartment, you see. And no, I didn’t have any visitors. My kids live upstate, and my husband’s dead.”

Emma’s heart panged at the sadness that tinged Agatha’s words. She briefly wondered how often the woman’s kids visited. “Our condolences. Mrs. Brown, did you know Tasha Evans personally?”

“No. She was just the girl who lived with that gay boy at the end of the hall.”

“Do you recall hearing anything unusual Thursday night?” Emma prodded. “Some shouting or loud noises as if a fight was going on?”

Agatha shook her head. “My hearing isn’t the best.” She turned her head to show her ears beneath her short, gray hair. “Hearing aids, you see. I may have had them out.”

Kevin nodded. “Mrs. Brown, we have evidence to suggest that you may have seen the person who killed Tasha.”

“Me?” Agatha asked in surprise. “That doesn’t seem likely. I told you, I hardly leave.”

“We understand, ma’am, but there’s footage from the security camera in the hallway that shows you being outside your apartment at the same time that the suspect is near the elevator. Is there anything that you remember that you can tell us?”

The woman looked away as she thought. “I…I don’t know.”

Kevin inched forward. “The suspect was most likely a man wearing dark clothes. His hood would have been up.” Agatha eyes found his before darting away again. “Does that ring a bell?”

Agatha stared out the window. “I don’t know.”

Emma could tell Kevin’s impatience was wearing thin. She fished out her phone and pulled up the email that Carrie had sent her. “Mrs. Brown, this is the feed we’re speaking of.” She waited until the woman turned her attention to the phone before playing the footage. “This person here, he passed you in the hall. Do you remember now?”

Agatha stared at the phone for a few minutes. “I…I didn’t see a lot,” she revealed finally. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

“Anything you can tell us is helpful,” Kevin encouraged.

“I remember thinking that I didn’t recognize him,” Agatha said. “I’ve lived here a long time. I know about most of the people who live on this floor, but not him.”

“What did he look like?” Emma asked. “Was he tall? What race was he? Did he have a beard?”

Agatha appeared to shrink in the chair. She was wringing her hands again. “He…he was white. I don’t think he had a beard. I told you, I didn’t see a lot.”

“That’s okay. Would you be open to speaking to a sketch artist?”

“I…I don’t think I remember enough.”

“You might surprise yourself,” Kevin said. “You can come down to the station and--”

“No!”

The detectives froze at her outburst; Agatha herself seemed surprised.

“Forgive me,” she said thickly. “But I don’t feel comfortable going to the police station.”

Emma furrowed her brow at the curious statement, but she stowed it away. Instead, she asked, “Would you be more comfortable talking to a sketch artist here?”

Agatha pursed her lips. “Only if you’re here too.”

“We’ll have a uniformed officer.”

Agatha immediately shook her head. “No, I don’t want another officer here. Can it be one of you?”

Emma’s suspicion escalated as she and Kevin glanced at each other. “I’m sure that we can arrange that.” She stood, Kevin mimicking her, and thrust her hand out towards Agatha. “Thank you so much for your time, Mrs. Brown. We’ll be in touch about the sketch artist. This is my card; if you remember anything more, don’t hesitate to call.”

They made their exit and Emma rounded on Kevin. “That was weird, right?”

“What? The fact that she doesn’t want to come to the station? Not really.”

“She was adamant,” Emma pointed out. “Almost as if…”

Kevin fixed her with a stern look, guessing what she was going to say but not wanting to believe it. “Emma--”

“As if it’s an officer, and she’s scared,” Emma said. “An officer she’s seen, an officer who has been acting suspicious since the beginning.”

“Chad isn’t acting suspicious!” Kevin said heatedly, knowing exactly who Emma was accusing. “He’s just doing his job!”

“He just happened to be in the vicinity when Tasha’s murder was called in?” Emma laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, right. Look he fits the height description--”

“Many people are in that height range. _I’m_ in that height range!”

“And Johnny looked super spooked when he saw him before he left the apartment,” Emma continued as if she hadn’t heard Kevin.

“What?”

“Johnny. Tasha’s roommate went white as a ghost when he saw Chad in the apartment a few days ago,” Emma explained. “I’m sure he’s seen him around!”

“Emma!” Kevin snapped. “You need to drop this _now_. Unless you have some hard evidence, stop fucking following your gut! Do you have any idea what would happen if you go to the captain and accuse another detective without evidence?”

Emma opened her mouth to argue, but a different voice sounded out from down the hall. A familiar voice.

“Thank you so much for your time, Mr. Bingby.”

Emma watched as Alyssa closed the apartment door behind her and turned around to see the detectives. Her face fell, and Emma didn’t need to read her mind to know what was going through it.

_Shit_.


	7. VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are mine. Hope everyone is doing well during this pandemic.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Emma hissed as she dragged Alyssa by her elbow to the stairwell.

Alyssa yanked herself out of Emma’s grip. “I don’t appreciate being manhandled, Emma.” She took in the detective, noted the rigidness of her jaw and the fire in her eyes. “Why’re you so upset?”

Emma gave her an incredulous look. “Seriously? You can’t understand why a reporter snooping around my crime scenes would make me upset?”

“I’m not snooping!”

“No?” Emma said sarcastically. “What’re you doing then?”

“My job,” Alyssa said firmly, placing her hands on her hips. “I’m just interviewing people. I haven’t broken any rules, detective.”

Emma shook her head in frustration. “You’re making me look like an idiot. Did you know that? My partner has been warning me to stay away from you because you’d take advantage of me and then you go and show up at one of our crime scenes.”

“I’m not taking advantage of you,” Alyssa said desperately. Her heart ached at the thought that Emma believed it to be true; she thought they were past this. “And I’m not trying to interfere, I swear. I’m only doing my job. I need this story, Emma.”

Emma crossed her arms. “Do you know how difficult crime reporters make our lives? Cases have almost gone to shit because of your profession!”

“The public has a right to know what’s going on,” Alyssa insisted firmly. “Freedom of the press!”

Emma rolled her eyes, but she knew that Alyssa was right; the reporter hadn’t done anything wrong as far as Emma knew. But still, “You really shouldn’t be talking to these people, Alyssa. We can’t have a story printed that puts more innocent people in danger. We really shouldn’t have a story printed at all about an ongoing investigation.”

“You act like I’ve never written an article before,” Alyssa remarked dryly. “I keep sources confidential; no names. And I make sure to talk to people only after you’ve spoken to them. Stop acting like I’m the only reporter on this case. I haven’t printed anything. But you know that if I don’t print it, somebody else will.”

She was right, and they both knew it. Emma stared at her, aware that most of her anger had been due to the possibility (again) of Alyssa using her. She sighed. “What did that guy tell you?”

“Nothing significant,” Alyssa promised and took out her notepad and handed it to Emma. “He told me that he had already spoken to the police.” Emma scanned the notes in the brunette’s elegant scrawl. She nodded when she finished and handed the notepad back; there wasn’t anything in there that was confidential. Alyssa’s lips quirked up. “Trust me, Emma. I’m good at my job, and I love it too much to risk doing something that would have it taken away from me.”

“I do trust you,” Emma murmured softly after a beat. “I probably shouldn’t, but I do.” Alyssa beamed. “Just…can you let me know if you do find something that seems important? We need to catch this guy, Lys.”

“You know I will,” Alyssa assured. “I want this guy caught, too.”

The door to the stairwell swung open and both women turned to see Kevin. “Sorry to interrupt,” he began hastily, giving Alyssa a quick once-over. “but we need to get back to the station, Emma. Captain wants to speak to us.”

***

_Tick tock, tick tock. Better hurry up. You really don’t want me to go for the next one. It’ll hit too close to home._

Emma clenched her jaw as she glared at the typed letters on the sheet of paper in the evidence bag. She was in the captain’s office along with Kevin, Chad, and Nick. Emma knew that whatever her superior had to show them wasn’t good since he reached out to the detectives in Queens, but she hadn’t expected this.

“This is just fucking great,” Nick spat as he glowered at the bag which was placed on Captain Hawkins’ desk. “He’s sending us letters now? Who does he think he is? The Zodiac killer?”

“The Zodiac sent letters to newspapers, not cops,” Chad commented needlessly.

Emma’s mind reeled; first the bastard left a note at Tasha’s apartment after killing her, and now he was addressing letters to the captain. When she spoke, her voice was miraculously strong. “Sir, have you taken it to the lab yet?”

“Not yet,” Captain Hawkins said. “I wanted you to see it first. Marcus is aware that he has a high priority item coming down though.”

Chad shook his head. “I doubt the lab will find anything. This guy’s too smart for that.”

Curious. Emma’s eyes cut to him. “Yes, that’s exactly what needs to be said right now,” she panned dryly.

Chad held up his hands. “I’m just saying, this guy hasn’t left us anything to use. He doesn’t make mistakes.”

“Everyone makes mistakes,” Hawkins stated. “Maybe today is the day he made one.”

“And we think he did make one,” Kevin began. He and Emma filled in the others about Agatha and the security footage.

“That’s amazing!” Nick exclaimed when they finished. “The witness is willing to do a sketch?” Kevin nodded.

“Why did you keep this from us?” Chad said, his voice a stark contrast to Nick’s excitement. Emma raised an eyebrow at Chad’s obvious frustration. She shot Kevin a meaningful glance, but her partner minutely shook his head. “It’s pretty important information, don’t you think?”

“We weren’t keeping it from you,” Emma insisted heatedly, not liking the accusatory tone Chad had taken near the end of his little spiel. “This morning was nonstop. We saw the footage, figured out who the witness is, and went there. We were going to call when we got back.”

“Okay, fine. So, when will the witness be here for the sketch?”

Kevin’s eyes flitted between Hawkins and Chad. “She, uh, she’s not coming to the station.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because she doesn’t want to.” He paused, and Emma knew that he was debating on revealing how scared the woman was at the prospect of coming to the station. “I’m planning on getting a sketch artist there ASAP.”

“That’s insane,” Chad said, crossing his arms. “She’s asking us to break protocol.”

Kevin looked to Hawkins. “Sir, she’s not comfortable being at the station, and I want to respect that. We told her we could bring the sketch artist to her.”

“That’s not how it works!” Chad argued crossly. Emma was ready to punch him.

“Detective Hendrickson has a point,” Captain Hawkins conceded. “But if the witness insists on staying in her apartment, I’m sure we can accommodate her.”

Chad’s jaw dropped. “But, sir-”

“Detective, this is our only lead thus far. I am not going to jeopardize that.” Chad clenched his jaw, but relented. Captain Hawkins turned to Kevin. “The sooner you can get the sketch the better,” he said. “I’ll organize a press release for after we have a sketch. Civilians may feel safer if they know what to look for.” He handed Emma the evidence bag containing the letter. “Emma, get this down to the lab and have Marcus call a handwriting specialist.”

By the time Emma was back at her desk, Nick and Chad had disappeared. Kevin looked up from his desk.

“They left,” Kevin said when Emma gave him a questioning look. “There wasn’t really a reason for them to stay until after we get that sketch. I told them we would keep them updated.”

“We’ve _been_ keeping them updated,” Emma said, annoyed. “I don’t know where Chad is getting the idea that we’re keeping things from him.”

“He’s just frustrated, Emma,” Kevin said wearily. “We all are.”

“Sure, but you don’t see any of us accusing the others of keeping information from each other.”

“Nope, just one of us wanting to accuse a fellow detective of murdering several women,” Kevin said pointedly.

“I’m not…I don’t _want_ to accuse him, Kev, but you have to admit that’s he’s acting weird. I just—I don’t trust him.”

“You don’t have to, but don’t risk your career or his by throwing around accusations.”

Emma slumped back in her chair. “Fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut, but I’m keeping an eye on him.”

“That’s fine.” Kevin picked up his phone, signaling the end of the conversation. Emma busied herself with her computer while he had a quick conversation with the person on the other end of the line. He hung up and sighed. “The sketch artist won’t be here til tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yep. He’s upstate right now. Said he’ll be here first thing in the morning.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Well, I guess that’s fine.”

She picked up her phone and opened the text thread with Alyssa. Her fingers hovered over the buttons, not sure what she wanted to send. She selfishly wanted Alyssa to keep staying at her apartment, but did the brunette want that? Did she want to go back to her apartment? Was she done with Emma?

“Hey.” Kevin’s soft voice pulled Emma out of her spiral. “About what happened earlier, with Alyssa being at the apartment-”

“Don’t say it,” Emma interrupted harshly. “I don’t need to hear your ‘I told you so’ speech.”

Kevin frowned. “I wasn’t going to say that.” He waited until Emma met his gaze. “I was going to apologize.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “I’m skeptical, but go on.”

“I’m sorry about what I was insinuating about Alyssa. I have a natural mistrust for reporters, as most cops do. But in all my years of dealing with them, she’s one of the few who does her job right.”

Emma couldn’t help the proud grin that tugged on her lips. “Yeah, she really likes her job.”

“I was just being protective,” Kevin continued. “I know you really like her, and I don’t want you to get hurt.” Emma’s heart panged at the big brother role Kevin had stepped into. “And with her being a reporter, I assumed she was trying to get something out of you.”

Emma redirected her gaze to her hands. “She’s had the opportunity; I was vulnerable around her,” she admitted. “But she didn’t take it. I trust her. I know that I probably shouldn’t, but I do.”

“Well, if you trust her, then I do too, cause I trust you.”

Emma’s lips quirked up into a small smile. “Thanks, Kev.”

She reopened the text thread with Alyssa. _I know things were rocky this morning, but you can still stay at my place if you’d like._

**_Wasn’t planning on leaving so soon, Nolan_ ** **_😉_ **

***

Emma was making a salad for dinner by the time Alyssa strutted through her apartment door. Emma gave her a soft smile.

“Hey.” Alyssa didn’t respond. Instead, she placed a flash drive on the counter. Emma furrowed her brow. “What’s this?”

“It has my draft of the serial killer story on it. Don’t worry, it’s not being published for a bit, but I wanted you to read it.”

Emma sighed. “Lys, that’s not necessary. Look, I know I was a little harsh this morning. It’s just that my partner has been giving me grief over being with you cause he thought you were trying to get confidential details out of me. And when I saw you there this morning, a part of me was afraid that he was right.”

Alyssa nodded in understanding. “Not gonna lie, I know reporters who have done just that, but I never would.” She placed her hand on top of Emma’s.

“I know, and I’m sorry that I ques-”

“No, let me finish.” Emma shut her mouth. “We’ve talked about it before, but I feel the need to reiterate it. I like you, Emma, an awful lot, and I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize our relationship, even for a story. And I already told you that I don’t want to interfere with your investigations.”

Emma looped her arms around the brunette’s waist and pulled her into a soft kiss. “So, we have a relationship, then?” she asked when they parted.

Alyssa gave a sly smile. “I would like that.” She picked up the flash drive and placed it in Emma’s hand. “Go ahead and read it.”

Emma did, and Alyssa was right; she was damn good at her job. The article was informative but didn’t contain anything the police would want kept under wraps. It gave most of the attention to each of the victims, Alyssa writing about the women’s individual lives, their jobs and hobbies, instead of the killer. Emma smiled proudly as she finished reading.

“This is really good, Lys,” she told the brunette earnestly.

“Yeah?” Alyssa asked shyly.

Emma nodded. “Yeah. And you didn’t put anything that wasn’t already public knowledge, which is interesting.”

“Because most crime reporters would,” Alyssa supplied.

Emma nodded again. “I’m not an idiot. I know that you know more than what you’re putting in here.” She tapped her laptop.

Alyssa shrugged as she explained, “I know that the truth about the identity of the killer will come out soon enough thanks to you and your colleagues. And then that’s all that’ll be talked about; his court date and trial will take the focus, and the victims will be shoved into the background.” Her eyes grew steely. “I don’t want that to happen. This story is about them, not him.”

Emma wrapped her arms around Alyssa’s waist and pulled her into a bruising kiss. Alyssa squeaked in surprise but quickly surrendered to the push and pull of the blonde’s lips. Emma pulled away after a moment and Alyssa blinked her eyes open.

“What was that for?”

“You’re just really incredible,” Emma said softly. “Kind.” She kissed the brunette’s neck. “Intelligent.” Another kiss on the other side. “And unbelievably sexy.” She kissed her lips and Alyssa whimpered.

“You know,” Alyssa began when they parted, her lips brushing against Emma’s as she spoke. “you need to stop getting me all hot and bothered before we eat dinner. I don’t like to have food sit out.”

Emma glanced to the stove. “Well, I was just making a salad. I hadn’t gotten around to actually starting the entrée.”

“Oh, thank God,” Alyssa groaned and she tugged Emma to the bedroom.

***

The shrill of Emma’s phone woke her the next morning. She groaned as she rolled over, blindly searching for it; she refused the leave the warmth of Alyssa’s bare body next to her. She finally found it and brought it up to her ear as she answered, “Hello?”

_“Emma?”_ Kevin’s voice sounded from the other end. _“Are…are you still sleeping?!”_

“Uh…” She glanced at the clock on her nightstand and swore when she saw that she was late for work. “My alarm must’ve gotten switched off! Where are you? What’s going on?”

Kevin gave a frustrated sigh before saying _, “Well, I came by Agatha Brown’s apartment with the sketch artist, and she’s not here.”_

Emma tumbled out of the bed. “What?”

“Emma?” Alyssa mumbled sleepily, waking up at the sound of Emma hitting the floor. “What’s going on?”

Emma ignored her and quickly gathered her clothes while listening to Kevin. _“Yep. We got here and there’s a note on the door saying that she went to stay with her kids. She says ‘sorry’.”_

Emma tugged on her pants and hastily threw on a clean shirt. “Did you call her? I’m sure we have her number somewhere.”

_“Gee, how could I not have thought of that,”_ Kevin remarked dryly. _“Of course, I called her, Emma! She didn’t answer!”_

The blonde bit off another curse and slid on her badge. Alyssa was sitting up in the bed now, alert.

“Emma,” she tried again. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll be there in twenty,” Emma told her partner and hung up. She turned to Alyssa. “Sorry, I have to go, and you probably do too. Did you turn off our alarms or something?”

Alyssa furrowed her brow and checked the time on her phone. “Shit!” She scrambled out of bed and rummaged for clean clothes.

“My thoughts exactly,” Emma muttered. “I’ll text you later.”


	8. VIII

“Hey! Hey, I’m here!” Emma exclaimed as she exited the elevator onto Agatha and Tasha’s floor of the apartment building. She sped over to Kevin and a man dressed in a cheap suit, the sketch artist. She nodded in greeting to the sketch artist and looked to Agatha’s door. There was a piece of paper taped there, saying exactly what Kevin had relayed to Emma. The detective shook her head. “Why would she leave right after agreeing to help us?”

“I’ve been asking the same question,” Kevin muttered. “She must’ve gotten scared.”

Thoughts zipped through Emma’s mind. She had numerous questions, but the one she voiced was, “Should we bring this down to the lab? Make sure that there’s no other fingerprints on it?” 

Kevin furrowed his brow. “Why would we need to do that?” Emma gave him a meaningful look and Kevin frowned. He glanced at the sketch artist, who was bouncing his eyes back and forth between them with a confused expression. Kevin nodded his head towards the stairwell and Emma followed. As soon as the door closed behind them, he rounded on her. “Emma-”

“I know what you’re going to say,” Emma interrupted with her hands raised in defense. “This isn’t me accusing Chad.” Kevin gave her a skeptical look. “It’s not! I just want to make sure that Agatha is okay, that she actually did what the note says and that there wasn’t any foul play involved. You have to admit, that the whole thing is a little suspicious. So, let’s check it out.”

Kevin stared at her for a few minutes, mulling over her suggestion. “Fine,” he eventually said. “We can bag the letter. I’ll ask for security footage from the last 24 hours, make sure no one else visited her.”

“Good idea. I’ll call Nick and fill him in. Don’t want Chad getting offended again.”

It turned out that Kevin couldn’t get security footage.

“We ran out of tape a couple days ago,” the apartment manager notified the detectives.

“What? How?” Kevin interrogated.

“We were low before and you asked for a copy of the footage from last week,” the manager supplied snootily. “It used up the rest of our feed. We’ll have more tomorrow, but for now, no such luck.”

Kevin clenched his jaw as the manager ambled away. Emma held up the evidence bag, containing the letter from Agatha. “At least we have this.”

The drive back to the station was quiet, both detectives lost in their own heads. Emma was running through possible suspects if foul play was revealed concerning Agatha Brown’s absence. At the top of the list, of course, was Chad. She didn’t understand how her partner couldn’t see it; he was knowledgeable about other serial killers, which Emma had to admit wasn’t too crazy, they were all detectives after all. He blew his top when Emma and Kevin suggested that the serial killer could be a cop, and he consistently accused them of keeping information from him. Plus, he was one of the few who knew about Agatha agreeing to meet with a sketch artist.

Emma was so lost in her head that she didn’t realize they had made it to the station until Kevin was shutting the driver side door. She started and scrambled out to catch up to him. Captain Hawkins was already waiting for them by the time they stepped off the elevator.

“Detectives Hendrickson and Boomer are on their way. What happened?” he asked.

Kevin shrugged. “She wasn’t there, sir. She left a note that she was going upstate to stay with her kids until this was all over and that she was sorry. I tried contacting her but she hasn’t answered her phone.”

“And you don’t believe any foul play is involved?”

“Well, it’s hard to say. We couldn’t go into her apartment.”

Hawkins hummed. “Get a search warrant. I want to make sure that she really did leave at her own will.”

“Sir, are you actually suspecting that someone attacked her?”

“I sincerely hope not, but she is our only witness. I wouldn’t put it past this serial killer to tie up some loose ends. If you’re unable to contact her within 24 hours, get the warrant.”

“I’ll see if I can find her kids phone numbers,” Emma said as she and Kevin headed back to their desks.

“I’ll do that,” Kevin insisted. “You get that letter down to Marcus. I want to know ASAP if there are any fingerprints and if they’re Agatha’s.”

***

Emma was out of the door before Alyssa had finished getting dressed. She vaguely remembered Emma’s alarm going off hours before and the detective sleeping right through it. Alyssa herself hadn’t set an alarm because Dee Dee had given her the morning off to finish her draft and edit it.

Now, however, Alyssa wasn’t sure how she was supposed to concentrate; Emma had left in a hurry and it was clear that something was wrong. The brunette hoped that Emma was alright. She hoped they hadn’t found another body. She pulled out her phone to call one of her contacts about any possible new bodies found, but she stopped herself. She had her draft written, there was no need to go on another chase this morning when her focus should be on polishing up her story.

Alyssa padded into the kitchen and made herself some eggs, the routine calming her. She wondered if it would always be like this; her worrying about Emma everyday due to her job. The thought made her pause. Why was she thinking about forever with Emma? Wasn’t it too soon? It probably was, but as the brunette let the thought run in head, waking up next to Emma every morning, going on vacations with her, telling her things she hadn’t told anyone else; it made her smile. She would love that.

***

Chad and Nick showed up to the station a little before ten. Emma hoped that her suspicious glances towards Chad weren’t obvious. Kevin filled them in on what had happened. Nick let out a low whistle.

“Tough break,” he said sympathetically. “So, what now?”

“Marcus, our lead lab analyst, is running some tests on the note that was left on Agatha’s door,” Kevin said. “We’re making sure that only her fingerprints on it.”

Chad cocked his head to the side. “So, what if they are? The killer could have found her and held her at gunpoint and had her write that letter. It’s not going to tell us anything.”

“Well, we need to do something,” Kevin said with bite in his tone. Emma could tell that he was getting tired of Chad’s pessimism. “Do you have anything in mind?”

Even Nick turned his annoyed eyes on Chad, waiting for his idea. Chad raised one of his eyebrows. “Why don’t we call her or her kids?” he suggested coolly.

Emma clenched her jaw. “We’ve been trying to do that all morning, Mr. Know-it-all.” Chad glared at her. “Any other spectacular ideas up your sleeve, detective?”

“You got a problem with me, Nolan?” Chad sniped.

Emma opened her mouth, but Kevin stepped between them.

“No,” he told Chad firmly. “No problem. Let’s just try to track down her kids’ phone numbers, shall we?”

Chad and Emma continued to glare at one another. Nick took his partner’s elbow and directed him toward the conference room. Kevin turned to Emma.

“I thought you were gonna stop with Chad.”

“He started it!”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s get started.”

They didn’t see Chad again for the rest of the morning. Nick came into the bullpen several times to ask questions or try to help, but it seemed that Emma’s luck had run out; Agatha had yet to answer her phone or return their calls and they couldn’t get a hold of her kids.

Emma set her head on her desk. “How can people not be answering their phones?”

“Maybe they’re at work,” Kevin suggested.

“Still. What adult doesn’t have their cellphone on them at all times nowadays? This is ridiculous.” She checked the time as her stomach growled. Shit, she had forgotten lunch in her haste this morning. She stood up. “I’m going to stop at my apartment and get something to eat and mull things over.”

Kevin raised an eyebrow. “You’re not going to the café?”

Emma shrugged. “Just not in the mood for it today. I’ll be back in an hour.”

***

The hot water cascading down her back made Alyssa sigh. She had just finished editing her story and was due to send the final draft to Dee Dee by the end of the week. Emma had told her that the story was good, but Alyssa was still a little worried that the detective would be upset about it being published. The brunette knew she was going to have to give Emma a heads up when the story was officially going public.

Alyssa pulled open the door, steam flowing out behind her. She continued to hum as she padded towards the bedroom.

“You have a lovely voice.”

Alyssa yelped and spun around to see Emma on the couch with her guitar. “Jesus, Emma, don’t scare me like that,” she chastised with her hand on her chest.

“Sorry,” the detective mumbled as she let herself get momentarily distracted by the brunette wearing nothing but a towel. She met Alyssa’s eyes again. “But I mean it. You have a good voice. Do you sing a lot?” She absentmindedly picked at a few strings, creating a tune.

Alyssa watched her fingers and flushed at the compliment. “Hardly. Only when I’m alone.”

“Hmm, your voice is too nice for that. Have you ever done kara--” Emma suddenly stopped, her eyes widening.

“Em? You alright?” When the blonde did nothing to respond, Alyssa knelt down in front of her. “Emma? Are you okay? You’re not having a stroke, are you?”

“Singers,” Emma breathed out. She looked to Alyssa. “They were all singers.”

Alyssa furrowed her brow. “Who were all singers?”

Emma leapt up, nearly bowling Alyssa over, and tossed her guitar on the couch. “Sorry. I have to go. I’ll be back.” She grabbed her jacket and hastily shrugged it on. She reached the door before turning around. “Don’t go anywhere,” she begged. “Please. Just stay here.”

Alyssa didn’t even get to answer before Emma was gone. She sat there, on the floor in her towel, as she tried to process what just happened. In doing so, her eyes fell on Emma’s messenger bag.

***

“Singers!” Emma shouted as she strode out of the elevator into the bullpen. Everyone turned to her. “Singers!”

“Yeah, we heard you,” Nick quipped. “What about singers?”

“He’s targeting them, the serial killer,” Emma elaborated as she rushed over to her desk. She reached to swing off her bag only to realize that it was missing. “Fuck, I forgot my bag. Doesn’t matter.” She snatched files off of Kevin’s desk and charged to the conference room where the board was set up, Kevin and Nick hot on her heels.

“He’s going after singers?” Kevin asked.

“It’s the connection,” Emma said as she flipped open the files until she found the pages she needed. “Look! Tasha was a member of her church choir. Candace worked at a gentlemen’s club where she was a dancer and singer. Amy was a singing waitress at a restaurant.”

“And what about the others?”

Emma pointed to each of the victims in turn. “Emily was a grad student at Columbia, but her friends said that she loved to do karaoke. It’s the same for Jennifer. And Molly was a spin instructor, but she was trying to make it to Broadway; she was taking voice lessons.”

“Wait, how do you know that?”

“Alyssa wrote about it in her article.”

Kevin narrowed his eyes. “What article?”

“Holy shit,” Nick exclaimed, taking the attention away from Kevin’s question. “That’s the connection.”

“So, what do we do?” Kevin urged. “We can’t just shut down karaoke bars or vocal classes.”

“Maybe we can stake them out,” Nick suggested.

“No, that won’t work,” Emma said. “There’s too many and not enough officers. What if we show the security footage to employees at the karaoke bars that Emily and Jennifer frequented? And we can check with Molly’s voice coach.”

Kevin shrugged. “It’s a starting point.”

Emma glanced between Nick and Kevin. “Where’s Chad?”

“Went out to lunch,” Nick answered. “He should be back soon.”

“Well, Emma and I can get started,” Kevin said and wrote down the name of the karaoke bar that Emily enjoyed. He looked across the bullpen. “Roland! Over here. Can you go get the security footage from Tasha Evan’s apartment from Carrie and meet us at this address?” He scribbled the place down on a slip of paper and handed it to Roland. The officer nodded and hurried away. “While he’s doing that, we can fill in the Captain.”

***

Down in the analyst room, Carrie sipped her coffee while she rewatched the footage from Tasha’s apartment for what felt like the hundredth time. She wasn’t the only analyst who had combed it, but she liked to know that she truly didn’t catch any clues before telling the detectives that the footage was almost useless.

Her mind wandered while the black and white footage played on the screens in front of her. But then something caught her eye, something in the corner of the frame. She bit her lip as she froze the image and zoomed in. The image was still grainy, but there was no doubt in her mind what she had found.

There was a mirror on the wall of the lobby, and the suspect decided to turn his head at the exact moment that he was passing it, giving off a reflection of part of his face. Adrenaline coursed through Carrie as she set to work cleaning up the image.

It kind of looked like…

No, that can’t be right.

But it was!

“Shit!” Carrie gasped out before printing out the image and darting out of her office to see the Captain.

***

Three things happened simultaneously in Manhattan: Carrie explained to Captain Hawkins what she had discovered, Emma and Kevin had arrived at the karaoke bar to learn that the officer they had sent ahead of them hadn’t shown up yet, and Officer Henry Roland had stopped outside the school where Shelby Shields worked, waiting for his next victim to come out of the building for her lunch break.


	9. IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! All mistakes are mine. Also, this chapter gets dark. Trigger warning for abuse.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Shields?”

Shelby turned to see a police officer. She tensed, her hand coming to rest protectively on her protruding abdomen. “Yes?”

“My name’s Officer Roland.” He pointed to the badge that was clipped to his belt. “I work with your husband. I was sent to come and get you.”

Shelby’s body froze, but her mind was going hundreds of miles an hour. “What happened? Is Kevin okay?”

Roland put his hands up in a placating manner. “He’s fine, ma’am. But there was an incident and he’s in the hospital.”

“Which hospital? What happened?”

“I can explain on the way. I was sent here to pick you up and take you there.”

Shelby stared at the man, took in his open eyes that screamed innocence. There was a niggling feeling in the back of her mind that something wasn’t right, though. But the fear and worry that poured over her at the thought of Kevin being hurt had her pushing away that feeling and stepping closer to Roland.

“Okay, where are we going?”

***

Emma fished out her phone to call Roland and figure out why he wasn’t at the bar yet. Before she could finish dialing, though, her phone rang.

“It’s the captain,” she murmured to Kevin before answering.

“Emma,” Captain Hawkins said urgently. “It’s Roland-”

“He didn’t get into an accident, did he? Sir, he’s still not at the karaoke bar.”

“No, Emma, listen to me. Roland is our guy, he’s the killer!”

“Wha-” She cut herself off as the words washed over her. She blinked. The captain had to be wrong. It didn’t make sense. “What’re you talking about?”

“Roland is the serial killer!” Hawkins said again. “Carrie has video of him at Tasha’s apartment building the night she was murdered.”

She blinked again. Kevin was watching her, confused.

“Fuck,” she breathed out after a moment. She didn’t want it to be true, but the signs were flashing in front of her eyes now. “Do we have any idea where he went?”

“Not yet. Come back to the station. This is an all-hands-on deck.”

***

“I don’t understand,” Kevin said when he and Emma were talking with Nick and Captain Hawkins in the bullpen. Emma had filled him in on the drive back, but, “How can it be Roland?”

“We did speculate that the killer could be a cop,” Nick said.

“Yeah, but…” Kevin trailed off.

“Carrie has the video surveillance,” Hawkins said.

Carrie pulled it up on her laptop and showed the detectives. Seeing it again, there was no mistaking the cop as Roland as he strolled through the apartment lobby to the elevator. Emma’s mind was still reeling; it still didn’t make sense. She thought back to when the killings began, working her way through the memories.

Roland had been assigned at almost every crime scene. That in and of itself wasn’t odd. But there was that time that Johnny, Tasha’s roommate, had looked spooked. Emma assumed it was because he had caught sight of Henderson as he came on the scene and recognized him. But Chad had been standing right next to Roland! What if Johnny saw _Roland_ and got scared because of it?

Suddenly, a memory of Marcus flashed through her mind.

_“Anything else?”_

_“Yep.” Marcus swiveled in his chair to face Emma. “Officer Roland left his prints on some evidence again.”_

_“Again? Jesus, I’m gonna kill that guy.” Emma sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “How many pieces did he touch before he remembered to put his gloves on?”_

_“Just a couple. We haven’t found any other prints on them though, or anything actually.”_

_“I’ll have a talk with him. Again. Thanks Marcus.”_

“Jesus Christ,” Emma muttered, shaking her head.

“What?” Kevin asked.

“He left his prints at the scene,” Emma said. “He did it on purpose! He must’ve accidently touched something while killing Emily! And then he just pulled his usual rookie mistake so that we wouldn’t be suspicious.”

“Is he really that smart?” Nick asked.

“Apparently.”

Chad suddenly burst through the stairwell door. He rushed over to them.

“What’s going on?” he demanded, slightly out of breath. He must’ve sprinted up all four stories to the bullpen. Emma felt a pang a guilt at how she had suspected him of being the killer. “Nick said it’s one of the cops.”

“Officer Roland,” Captain Hawkins confirmed.

Chad furrowed his brow. “Wait, the officer who’s been helping us this whole time?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Shit. Well, where is he?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

“What do we know about Roland?” Nick asked. “Why would he be a killer?”

“I’m not sure, but it explains why the killer was always one step ahead of us,” Emma said. “Being a part of the investigation gave him access to know exactly what we were doing.”

“He knows now that we know,” Kevin added. “Otherwise he would have shown up to the karaoke bar with us. He’s out there prowling.”

A ding sounded and Carrie pulled out her phone. Her eyes widened.

“What is it?”

“It’s a link to a livestream,” she said.

“Who’s it from? Is it him?” Chad asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“Open it,” ordered Captain Hawkins.

Carrie clicked on it and YouTube opened up. For a second the screen was black, but then an image formed. It was showing a woman with dark hair slouched in a chair in an empty room with concrete flooring. The lighting was poor, the borders of the feed blanketed in darkness.

Kevin tensed. “Who is that?” he inquired at the same time that Nick demanded, “Where is that?”

“Maybe an abandoned factory?” Emma said.

“He can’t have gotten too far,” Captain Hawkins said. “Carrie, can you see where he’s streaming from?”

“I can try, but I need to get to my office,” Carrie said and began strutting to the elevator, the detectives hot on her heels.

“There aren’t too many abandoned buildings around here,” Emma said. “It shouldn’t be too long to find him.”

By the time they reached Carrie’s office and she typed in the livestream address into her monitors, the woman had moved her head so that her face was visible to the camera. Emma gasped as she saw who it was. It seemed like all the air had left the room.

The woman was Shelby.

Kevin paled and he lurched towards the screens. “Shelby!” he yelled, though they all knew that she couldn’t hear him. “Shelby!” He reached his hands out, touching the screen.

“Kevin!” Emma put her hand on his shoulder. He whirled around, his eyes glistening. Emma’s heart clenched.

“Emma,” his voice was broken. “Emma, we need to find him. We need to find that fucker!” He turned back to the screens.

“And we will,” Emma promised.

“Shields, we need you to focus,” the captain said firmly but kindly.

“But it’s Shelby!”

“We know,” Emma said sympathetically.

“She’s…she’s about to have the baby!”

“I know,” Emma said again. She put her hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look at her. “Kevin, I swear that we’re going to do everything we can to find him. Carrie, can you trace the stream?”

“I’m already on it,” the analyst said. “But it’s hard; he’s bouncing it off so many places.”

Kevin stormed out of the office. Emma followed him. He was pacing the hall.

“Kevin--”

“No, Emma!” Kevin snapped. “You don’t get it. That’s my _wife_! My pregnant wife! A-and he’s…he’s got her!”

“He does,” Emma agreed calmly, keeping her voice even. “But we’re going to find him. He’s not going to hurt her.”

“I need to get him,” Kevin seethed.

“You will come with the team, but you will not storm the building,” Captain Hawkins said. He had come out into the hall. “You will stay on the sidelines. That’s an order.”

Kevin was shaking his head before Hawkins had finished speaking. “Sir, I need to b--”

“What you need is to stay out of the way,” the captain said firmly. “I understand that she’s your wife, Shields, but you run the risk of letting your anger mess up this up. You will come to the spot, but you will stay in the cruiser. Understood?”

“Did Carrie find the location?” Emma asked.

“She has an area of interest,” Hawkins answered but he kept his gaze on Kevin.

“Where?” Kevin demanded at once.

“You will stay on the sidelines,” Hawkins repeated, ignoring Kevin’s question. “Detective Shields, do you understand?” Kevin didn’t say anything, but he gave a curt nod. “Good. Let’s get a team together.”

Carrie stepped out and handed Emma a tablet. “So you can watch the feed,” she explained.

Within twenty minutes, there was a team of thirty officers and several SWAT patrols. Captain Hawkins went over the plan in the bullpen. Emma spent her time listening and darting glances to Kevin who was watching the feed on the tablet like a hawk. Emma swore he hadn’t blinked. His eyes were red and she could see that he was tightening his jaw. Emma didn’t know what she would do if she were in Kevin’s shoes.

Yes, she did. She would be at the site already, trying to put a bullet in the bastard. The fact that Kevin hadn’t just stormed from headquarters was amazing. Emma supposed that was why Captain Hawkins hadn’t let Kevin know where they were going.

She turned back to the captain, a mixture of emotions swirling within her. First and foremost, there was anger. Anger at Roland for doing unspeakable things to the victims, and for taking Shelby; he was a fucking scumbag. And also anger at herself for not catching him before he put her partner’s wife and unborn child in danger. Guilt followed closely behind. This was her fault. Why couldn’t she have been smarter?

“Everybody understand?”

Captain Hawkins’ voice snapped her out her thoughts. Heads nodded.

“Alright, let’s go then.”

They filed out from the bullpen and into their vehicles, Emma sticking close to Kevin and not noticing that Alyssa was trotting up to the building to drop off her bag she had left at the apartment earlier. The brunette watched the detectives and uniformed officers and SWAT members pack in their cars and speed off. She made split second decision and hurried back to her car.

***

Shelby groaned lightly as consciousness crept in. Her head was throbbing, and her body felt heavy. She moved her lips, trying to parch her dry mouth.

What the hell happened?

She blinked her eyes open slowly, the light in feeling like it was piercing through her eyeballs and into her brain. She instinctively went to put her hands on her stomach, to feel the baby. But her limbs would not budge. Shelby sluggishly turned her head to see her wrists tied by zip ties to the arms of the wooden chair she sat in. She blinked slowly at her predicament, and slowly took in her surroundings. She tried to remember what happened.

The ground was concrete, and she didn’t notice any windows in the metal walls. Fluorescent lights illuminated the large, empty space, empty save for a video camera set up on a tripod a few feet in front of her. A red light was shining on it.

Panic shot through Shelby as realization set in. She had been taken. That police officer abducted her. Was he even an officer? She still felt so tired and her head was throbbing, but she struggled against the restraints. If she could just slip her hand through—

“I wouldn’t do that,” a voice said softly from behind her. “You should save your strength for the baby.”

A mixture of horror and anger roared through Shelby at the man’s words. “Who are you?” she demanded.

“I already told you who I am,” he responded calmly and he stepped around so that she could see him. He was wearing a police uniform. That’s right, the man had told her that he worked with Kevin, and something had happened to him.

“My husband is going to find you,” she spat through gritted teeth, disguising her fear. “And when he does--”

“Oh, I plan on it,” the man, Roland, she suddenly remembered, said. “I plan on him bursting through that door.” He gestured behind him to a large double door. “But until he does, why don’t we have a little fun.”

He flicked his hand, and Shelby inhaled sharply at the sight of the long knife that he grasped. Her eyes widened as he stepped closer to her. He lifted the knife so that it trailed along her jaw. Shelby let out a shuddering breath at the cool metal, fear truly gripping her now. Roland abruptly pulled the knife away.

“Sing for me,” he demanded quietly.

“W-what?” Shelby questioned weakly.

“Sing for me,” Roland repeated. “I know that you have a lovely voice.”

Shelby stared at him, her mind blank. Apparently, it was for too long because Roland snapped.

“Sing for me!” he yelled and brought the knife close to her throat again. Shelby choked out a sob and tried to sing but her voice stuttered. She only got out a few notes before he said, “Stop.” Shelby snapped her mouth shut. “You’re not as good as I thought you’d be.” Disappointment lined his words.

Anger sparked in Shelby, and were it any other time, she would defend her voice. As it was, however, her instincts were telling her to appease Roland; do anything she could to stall him from stabbing her. Roland shifted his attention to the knife, which he was spinning idly in his hand.

“My mother was a singer, and she was brilliant,” he said calmly. “She was in the church choir and would do karaoke. She even was in a regional production of _Sound_ _of_ _Music._ She would sing all the time.” He stared longingly at the knife. “Everyone loved her. I loved her, even when she used to put her cigarettes out on the bottoms of my feet.” His lips quirked up sardonically and he looked to Shelby, who was staring at him. “You would think her voice would be trashed since she smoked so much, but it wasn’t. She was good at a lot of things, including knowing where to hit me so people wouldn’t see the bruises. Convincing me that her…abusing me was how she showed me love.”

Shelby swallowed thickly, a hint of pity in her. “Th-that’s horrible,” she stammered out. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” Roland said evenly. He brought the knife close to her face again. “That’s what all those other women said, too.”

***

Emma stared up at the abandoned building. There were windows, but they were high up; so high that they would need to climb a ladder which wasn’t an option if they wanted to surprise Roland. There was a pair of double doors that she could see in the front and Emma was positive there was at least one other entry along a different wall.

Captain Hawkins was giving instructions, but Emma was only half listening, occupied with figuring out a way into the building and keeping an eye on Kevin. Her partner was sitting in the back of a cruiser, the iPad in his lap. Emma stole a glance through the window. Shelby was still slumped in the chair on the live feed, though she did appear to be stirring.

“This is a delicate situation, everyone,” Captain Hawkins said and Emma turned her attention back to him. “The suspect is one of us, a cop, so he’s going to know our protocols.”

Emma couldn’t help but wonder if Roland became a police officer strictly for the opportunity to terrorize innocent women. Her blood boiled.

“I’ve been notified of a second entrance in the back,” Hawkins continued. “We’re going to have two teams, one at the front doors, the other at the back. I’ll let you know who goes where. The rest of you will stay back near the cruisers. If the suspect gets past us somehow, it’s up to you to stop him from escaping. And we need him alive.” He stressed the last word. “Avoid kill shots. Understand?”

Emma clenched her jaw. What she wouldn’t give to put a bullet through Roland’s brain. She glanced to Kevin, who was still in the same position as before, though he looked paler. She surveyed the parking lot. It was thankfully empty save for the police, but Emma knew it was only a matter of time before word got out that the fuzz was gathered at an abandoned factory building and reporters show up. She briefly wondered if Alyssa had followed her instructions and stayed at the apartment. God, she hoped so.

***

Alyssa hadn’t stayed at the apartment. After seeing that Emma had left her messenger bag on the living room floor, she decided to take it to the detective after she had rushed out, saying something about singers. When she got to the precinct, however, it was just in time to see Emma and a slew of officers (along with SWAT) leave. Alyssa followed.

She parked her car away from the police cruisers, but there was no denying that something serious was going on. Alyssa could see Emma’s tense jaw from where she was at. A small part of her wanted to call her boss Dee Dee and ask that more reporters and a camera crew get over to the building stat. But a larger part of her just wanted to make sure that everyone (mostly Emma) would stay safe. So, she sat and watched.

***

Captain Hawkins was going around and assigning officers to groups. He approached her. “Detective Nolan, I want you to stay with Detective Shields.”

Emma straightened at that. “What? Sir, you can’t be serious. I have to go in! It’s Shelby-”

“I’m well aware of the situation, Emma.” The use of her first name stopped Emma short. “But I need you to stay with your partner. He needs someone and you know him better than anyone.”

Emma clenched her fists but nodded, knowing that he was right. The sound of a car door opening made her turn and she saw Kevin scrambling out of the cruiser. His eyes were wild.

“Shelby’s awake! And he’s in there!” he yelled and several officers, including Emma and Hawkins, rushed over to watch the tablet. Roland had his back to the camera, but there was no denying it was him and Emma prayed that Shelby was recording the live stream so that they could use it as evidence in court. Kevin had a white-knuckle grip on the tablet but he was keeping it steady. Emma heard him inhale sharply as the stream showed Roland leaning close to Shelby with a knife in his hand.

“We have to move in!” Chad snapped from where he stood on Kevin’s other side. For once, Emma agreed with him. “We’re running out of time!”

Hawkins didn’t say anything, but Emma could tell that he was desperately trying to come up with a plan, a plan they didn’t have time for. She adjusted her vest slightly before sprinting towards the building, towards the doors, ignoring her captain’s orders to stop.

Emma unholstered her gun as she reached the wall outside the doors. She didn’t look back to the other officers, though she could hear the captain yelling. A body appeared beside her and she glanced around to see Chad. He had his gun drawn. He nodded to the door.

“Think it’s locked?”

Oh. Emma hadn’t even thought of that.

“Guess we’ll find out,” she acquiesced quietly.

“Okay. You open and I’ll go through.”

Emma nodded. Chad held up three fingers, counting them down. Once his last finger dropped, Emma pushed her weight against the door and Chad burst through, gun raised. Roland must’ve heard them though, because he had his gun pointed toward them. A shot rang out and Emma noticed Chad drop to the concrete ground with an agonizing sound, but she kept her eyes on Shelby’s terrified face. She had to save her. She had to-

Emma didn’t even hear the second gunshot.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments appreciated! Have a nice day!


End file.
